


Never Get Used To It

by TheMedJack



Series: Take Two AU [4]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, And maybe a bit of minor dom/sub undertones if you really really really squint a little, And plenty of bickering and them being in love, Cooking, Eddie Kaspbrak Cries During Sex, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Even more kissing and forehead touching than the last one, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fix-It, Frottage, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Hand Jobs, Lazy Mornings, Leia Kaspbrak Tozier, Leia gets a bath, M/M, Maybe a bit of edging if you squint a little, Mentions of Anxiety, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, POV Eddie Kaspbrak, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Richie Tozier Has ADHD, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie and Eddie both have their own Insecurities(tm), Slow Dancing, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Take Two AU, but they communicate and work through them together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27784123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMedJack/pseuds/TheMedJack
Summary: Richie spends his last full day home with Eddie before he has to leave for a month-long tour.[A scene from the Take Two SMAU on Twitter, taking place during update 533.]
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Take Two AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920739
Comments: 12
Kudos: 93





	Never Get Used To It

**Author's Note:**

> ...I can't believe this one is finally done. I checked earlier today, and I started making outlines for this one in early October and was writing it by the 15th??? It feels like ages ago 😭😭 BUT it's finally here!! This one obviously took much longer than the others, so I'm super excited to share it with everyone ❤ 
> 
> Side note - This is my first time posting anything explicit and I'm Very Nervous about it so hopefully it's not terrible 💀  
> Disclaimer - I do not own the song. (Truly Madly Deeply - Savage Garden)
> 
> You all continue to amaze me with your support and comments on this story, thank you all so much for going on this ride with me even after it became much longer than anticipated!! 💘✨💘✨ Just like the others, this piece is from the twitter smau Take Two (@beepbeepjess) but can also be read as a standalone. 
> 
> Happy reading 🌻🌻🌻

A distant hum of static. 

Eddie stirs, dazed in a way he finds to be strangely pleasant. Perhaps even comforting. It’s a feeling he doesn’t know well, not something he’s ever had a chance to experience before moving in with Richie. But now? He’s had eight whole days of it. Or nine, if Eddie includes this morning. 

Not that he’s fucking counting, or anything. 

Something builds in Eddie’s chest and takes the form of a sigh. Heavy, content, and alleviating of two decades-worth of pressure. Eddie sinks into the feeling, allowing himself to bask in the hazy state between dream and wakefulness for just a few moments longer. 

It’s Richie who taught him to love laid-back mornings.

Ones where they can lie in bed for hours and do as much or as little as they wanted, and a chance for Eddie to experience what it’s like to not rush out the door and race to a job he dreads returning to. 

Eddie can take his time. 

He can manipulate and do whatever he pleases with it. Slow it down, speed it up. Bend, twist, or stretch it. Or sometimes, leave it just how it is, pristine and untouched. There’s no need to mend every moment; Eddie understands that he and no one else will ever alter them. That time’s direction is relative, with his right as someone else’s left, or his up akin to their down. 

So long as he moves forward, Eddie knows it’ll be alright in the end. 

Minutes pass, slow and sweet, as Eddie’s mind rouses and the noises of the world gradually fall into tune. He stretches with a grimace, eyes scrunched and hands in tight fists beneath the ruffled mess of blankets. The air is dry and carries a chill that draws a shiver; Eddie relishes in the sensation as he looks upon the window and its frosted edges. It’s the coldest days that give him all the more pleasure of curling up within the welcoming heat of indoors. 

Even more so when it’s Richie’s warmth he’s able to dwell in.

Feather-light taps of tiny feet near his ankles pull Eddie from his thoughts, and something light floods from his heart when he peers down to beam at the wobbly form of Leia. A palpable fondness that only grows stronger with every eager step she takes. Eddie opens his arms in invitation once the puppy reaches his waist. 

“Hi there, sweet pea.”

Eddie shines with pride at how well he knows his daughter. 

His hands are already raised to catch her the moment she ascends, tail wagging and paws jittering, a shrill yip leaving her mouth. Leia wriggles excitedly after slamming against Eddie’s chest. He laughs, secures his grasp. Sits up fully and moves to cradle Leia close once she’s settled, her belly exposed and begging to be rubbed. 

“Good morning, angel,” Eddie coos. He raises his free hand to scratch Leia’s stomach. The dog pants happily, shifting to give his hand even more space. “Does that feel good?” Eddie grins, repeating the motions until Leia loses interest and begins to nip at the sleeve of his shirt. “Leia, no— hey, _no_ , we talked about this.”

Leia pouts when her dad pulls her away from his chest. 

Her dad takes note and glares back.

“Don’t do that,” He orders, struggling to uphold his stern demeanor, “You know I can’t be mad at you when you do that.” 

Leia huffs and does it anyways. 

As if Richie isn’t already enough to deal with when he gives Eddie that same fucking look. Maybe Leia picked it up from him.

“No bites,” Eddie says with a finger pointed towards the dog. She stares back in silence, her expression attentive but lacking comprehension. The hesitation prompts Eddie to raise his eyebrows and speak again, as if asking Leia for any form of acknowledgement she can provide. “No biting.”

The puppy cocks her head thoughtfully and cranes her neck forward to sniff the finger Eddie still has pointing at her. 

She licks it.

“Shit, that’s cute,” Eddie sighs in defeat, accepting that he’ll never win these battles so long as he lives with two _children_. 

He wonders if he’s become far too quick to forgive, but shrugs away the thought in a matter of seconds. The answer doesn’t make a difference to Eddie. With a smile, he pulls Leia close and showers her with light kisses along the head and back. 

Who the hell can blame him? 

Leia twists in her father's palms, jerking around until she’s on her back. She sniffs the air again, tickling Eddie’s chin when she drags her wet nose across it, before launching forward and attacking the man with a wild series of licks. “Okay, okay, I get it,” Eddie laughs, face scrunching as Leia continues her pursuit, “Save some kisses for your other dad, please-”

A sudden drone of static, louder than the one Eddie heard upon waking. It faintly echoes from down the hall. 

Richie’s up. 

Eddie knew this already, he knew from the moment he woke and saw the empty bed-space beside him. But there’s just something about it that feels so _secure_. A steadfast pride Eddie only feels upon hearing Richie wake unprompted, rising earlier with every day that passes. Perhaps it’s being together that gave them a grasp on what they never could apart. 

A reason to wake up, a reason to slow down. 

Or maybe a reason to see what they want and take it willingly; A way to understand that this act is not always deemed a selfish one. 

Something dings in the kitchen.

“It’s okay, princess,” Eddie coos in a pitiful yet comforting tone when Leia startles in his arms, “It’s just Richie.” Leia’s ears perk up with immediate interest upon hearing her other father’s name, sharp whimpers quickly building in her throat as she begins to wriggle energetically. 

“Ready to get up?” Eddie’s voice jumps to a higher octave than he’d ever like to admit, but Leia’s rapt attention at the pitch only encourages him to continue. “Wanna go find Richie?” Eddie asks with a laugh, “Okay, Leia, let’s go find him.”

The familiar golden light of sunrise pools at Eddie’s feet as he stands, it’s appearance deceiving and lacking in warmth. Eddie shivers, groans, and snatches his blanket from Richie and Leia off the bed. _Fuck this cold,_ Eddie thinks to himself as he clutches Leia on his chest and wraps the blanket snuggly around them both, _And fuck Richie and his stupid fucking furnace of a body._

A furnace Eddie most definitely plans on curling up with to keep warm today. 

“Warm enough, lovebug?” Eddie asks Leia, peering down to where her small head just barely peeks out from beneath the thick blanket. She shivers despite the heat of Eddie’s chest against her fur. Yawning, Eddie rubs an open palm along her side in an attempt to build some warmth. When Leia reciprocates a yawn and snuggles contently in his grasp, Eddie deems her warm enough and steps out into the hall.

  


* * *

  


A flurry of sounds strikes Eddie’s ears.

Groans of aged hardwood and creaks of kitchen tiles, sizzles of something savory on the stove. Clangs and clatters of pots and pans as they’re hastily grabbed to be used. All noises of a man cooking what could only be an overly-intricate breakfast. 

The sounds whiz and echo past Eddie, amplified as they bounce back-and-forth between the tight walls. They clash unmelodiously, growing louder in volume as Eddie approaches the kitchen, save for one sound in particular. It’s a voice, not Richie’s, but one that’s pre-recorded and singing along to a familiar beat. Eddie recognizes it from Richie’s most recent playlist. 

_this ones the extra gay edition,_ Richie texted Eddie just last week after sending him a link to the playlist called “The Spa(gay)tti Special” over text. 

_What makes this version gayer than any of the others?_

_cause these are all the songs that remind me of how much i love you when i listen to them_

Perhaps Eddie found the gesture incredibly sweet. And maybe he cried while listening to every song in his bed that night, but Richie doesn’t need to know that part. 

Eddie would never hear the fucking end of it. 

The potent scents of cooking eggs and meats grow stronger when Eddie rounds the corner. He stops, taking it all in, a wave of heat rushing past him as he leans against the archway. Richie’s bending over, his back towards Eddie, as he gingerly places a large glass dish on the lowest rack of the oven. The man’s playlist is much louder now, and Eddie fails to hide his smirk at the way Richie shakes his hips to the music. 

Eddie takes an embarrassingly long second to remember that Richie is _his_. 

That he is Richie’s. 

That Eddie is head-over-heels for this giant man-child who still makes hourly “I fucked your mom” jokes despite being both forty-years-old and gay. And for some fucking reason, Eddie swoons with surprise at the thought that Richie loves him, too. But Eddie’s doing pretty alright, he supposes, after all he’s dealt with this past month. 

A sexual awakening of his repressed attraction to men, a discovery of feelings towards Richie that were far too strong to be considered solely platonic, and a revelation that those feelings between them weren’t one-sided, but mutual? 

Eddie needs—

No. 

Eddie _deserves_ a fucking minute to let his mind slow down and process. And Richie, being the insanely patient and considerate person he is, knew this and assured Eddie that _he_ could set the pace of things if it ever became too much. That they could go as fast or slow as Eddie needed. 

As if Richie hadn’t been waiting for this to happen since they were fucking twelve. 

The notion provides a sense of overwhelming relief, one that constantly reminds Eddie of how grateful he is to have a partner as compassionate as Richie. Eddie feels safe with him, probably even _more_ than safe, if there’s a word for it. With Richie, there’s no rush for anything. No underlying expectations, no concealed secrets, no broken boundaries. 

No need to worry when there’s nowhere to go that isn’t at each other’s side—

—Shit, Kaspbrak. 

Maybe you really are the bigger sap between you both. 

Eddie hovers in the kitchen’s entrance. Expression softening, he watches Richie snap back to a standing position and set a new timer on the stove. Eddie, however, doesn’t move. He waits for Richie to close the oven door despite his dumb, lovestruck state; Eddie still knows a damn fire hazard when he sees one. 

The instant the door clicks shut, Eddie propels himself forward and cocoons Richie beneath his blanket from behind. 

The taller man jumps at the sudden contact, seemingly unaware of Eddie's presence until now, before the tension in his body quickly dissipates. Richie laughs, the sound making Eddie’s heart flutter. It’s a welcome, soothing warmth. Healing, even. Like when the sun peeks through parted clouds on a gloomy day. A smile creeps onto Eddie’s face as quickly he buries it between Richie’s shoulder blades, savoring the moment. 

Time slows. 

As Eddie inhales the familiar, comforting scent of Richie, he dwells in the fleeting glimpses of their night together in his bed. Tangled legs, gentle breaths, loosely-clasped hands that protectively encircled the dozing puppy between them. A night full of countless professions of love not spoken through words, but felt with every light brush of their skin. 

And fuck, Eddie loves him so much. 

He wants to feel Richie everywhere. 

And he will, soon enough. As much as Eddie wants Richie in every way he possibly can, he loves taking his time with him even more. To slow down and experiment, to open up and let himself be more vulnerable than he ever has with other partners. To learn what he likes, what Richie likes, and to gradually add to their ever-growing list of common interests. 

So far, it seems like Richie really prefers it this way, too. 

“Morning, Spaghetti,” Richie laughs, using a hand to pat the one Eddie currently has resting atop his stomach, “You slept in.”

Eddie mumbles something into Richie’s shirt and gives his torso a light squeeze.

“What was that, baby?” Richie snickers amusedly while collecting a small handful of dirty pots and pans from the stove by their handles. Eddie buries his face further at the name, his cheeks growing warm. And Richie, that fucker, he knows exactly what calling Eddie that name does to him. It’s a good thing Eddie has his own arsenal of nicknames to retaliate with— 

—Christ, they’re so fucking sappy. 

But Eddie would be lying if he says he doesn’t adore it.

Eddie mumbles again, still unintelligible, while clinging tightly to Richie as he slowly maneuvers himself towards the sink. Their music still plays from a speaker across the room, though Eddie is too caught up in the heat of Richie’s body against him. The tunes are nothing more than a faint, distant whirr. 

“Mhm,” Richie hums, as if pretending he knows what Eddie said. 

He doesn’t, and they both know it, but there’s something in Richie’s voice that tells Eddie he understands anyway. Every touch they share feels like a crescendo of _I love you’_ s, spelled out with a thousand unspoken words in a thousand silent ways. 

Eddie loses himself in the subtle movements of Richie’s back as he cleans, every breath raising another confession that meshes with the clings of dishes and sprays of water. The puppy in Eddie’s grasp, however, rouses at the sudden, jerky shifts against her side. She yawns with a tiny squeak before rising to paw at Richie’s back playfully. Huffing a laugh, Richie finishes the last of the dishes and slowly turns under the arm Eddie has wrapped around him. 

Richie’s eyes meet his.

And Eddie smiles, knowing. 

Knowing what? Eddie can’t say. He struggles with gaining a tangible grasp on the surge of affection he feels when Richie looks at him like this. He wants to quantify it, somehow. Watch it grow before him until it’s all he can see. But what can he do, when it’s something he can’t physically grasp? Nothing, he knows this, there’s nothing he can do to seize it. He just has to trust that Richie feels it, too. 

So maybe that’s what he sees in Richie’s eyes, what he knows. 

_All of him_ , Eddie supposes, _I know all of him and I know he feels it, too._

Comforting to think about. Cathartic, even. 

“Hi,” Eddie smiles tiredly, eyes falling shut as he heaves a content breath through his nose. He holds Leia out, feeling chilled as he parts with her warmth, before Richie quickly scoops her up into his palms. 

“There’s my goober,” Richie coos, his voice jumping dramatically in pitch. Leia squirms excitedly, paws wildly flinging in every direction, as the man hoists her higher than Eddie’s head. She licks Richie’s face, just as she had with Eddie’s; Another burst of warm laughter floods the kitchen. 

Eddie beams. 

“Hi,” Richie says, eyes soft, glistening, and trained on Eddie with a palpable abundance of love. He gingerly cups Eddie’s cheek and ghosts a thumb over the faint scar that lies there, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Good morning, Eddie, my love.”

Eddie shivers again, but not from the cold this time. 

“Sleep okay?” Richie asks as he reaches up and glides the same hand through Eddie’s hair. 

A few quick, distant nods. 

“Good,” Richie replies, his smile widening, “Me too.”

The foggy, tired haze of Eddie’s mind suddenly fades when he feels Richie’s lips against his. Eddie melts upon the contact and wastes no time latching his arms over Richie’s shoulders. A deeper kiss follows, then another. Slower, patient. Lacking in haste but not of purpose. Richie stares down at him as they part, the same wonder Eddie felt moments ago still lingering in his eyes. 

_Do you know?_ Richie says. 

He blinks. Ardent, near desperate. 

_Yes, I know,_ Eddie answers, _I always have, as will you._

They kiss again, smiling into it. Richie sighs, deep and eager, as he ghosts a free hand around Eddie’s waist to grasp his lower back. Heart racing, Eddie leans forward, only to jump when he feels Richie’s tongue press forward against his own. Out-of-breath, they part, panting as Eddie quirks an eyebrow. “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

A chuckle, a light squeeze. 

“You think I care, Spagheds? Was me shoving my tongue in your mouth not enough to tell you that?”

“Shut up. You’re gross.”

“You like it.”

Eddie huffs.

Richie cackles. 

With an exaggerated sigh, Eddie rolls his eyes and lets his head fall forward against Richie’s chest. He’d almost forgotten that Leia still sits in Richie’s open palm, dozing in and out of a light sleep, until she excitedly shoots up and sniffs his nose. “I like _you_.”

Another charming laugh, another circle of a splayed hand along Eddie’s back that makes him want to scream with how much he loves the man holding him. 

“I like you, too,” Richie replies earnestly, kissing the top of Eddie’s head. 

Eddie hums. 

“What’s in the oven?” Eddie leans back to peer up at Richie while keeping his arms wrapped snug around the man’s shoulders. 

“Remember that breakfast casserole my mom used to make for us on weekends?” 

“Vaguely?” 

“It’s that same one,” Richie explains, the corners of his mouth upturned in a feeble half-smile. 

There’s something else laced in his faltering expression. Eddie sees it, but he makes no remark. He already knows the pain of remembering the time they’d lost. It’s probably a silly thing, wondering how many more breakfast casseroles they could’ve made together if they never split apart. 

But it still stings just as fiercely when Eddie recalls the answer.

They could’ve made so fucking many.

Too many to count.

“Yeah?” Eddie says, stare softening and voice jumping in octave. He knows Richie sees it, and Richie knows that he knows, but Eddie tries his best to mask the anguish nonetheless. 

Richie follows suit, his smile quickly widening into a full grin when he speaks again. “Mhm,” He says, “I brought it up to my mom on the phone the other day and she sent me a copy of the recipe.” 

“Oh,” Eddie breathes, pleasantly surprised in a way that warms his heart, “That’s really nice, Rich.” 

“Yeah.” Richie peers down at him, the weight of his own heart apparent in the gleam of his eyes. Eddie sees it clearly. It’s hard to miss when he spots the same expression every time he stares at his own reflection. 

Layers upon layers of an impervious love, marred by grief yet no less striking. 

Ones that are unconditional. 

And it’s this, Eddie thinks, the moments like this one here, that makes those twinges of sorrow worth it. To know that, despite the wounds they’d suffered alone, they both seized the chance to help each other heal. To become happier than they ever dreamed could be possible. 

“How long does it need to bake?” Eddie asks as he cranes his neck to glance towards the oven. 

“Eh, twenty minutes maybe?” Richie leans back, bending over to place Leia on the floor before being swallowed by Eddie’s blanket once more.

Something shifts, muffled and distant. 

It takes Eddie a moment to realize it’s Richie’s playlist, which had never stopped playing music for the duration of their embrace. Taken aback by how absorbed he was with Richie not to notice, an all too familiar beat fills the room as the next track plays. An alluring grin flashes on Richie’s face as he recognizes the song and reaches to grasp at the blanket from behind Eddie’s back. 

“I think I have an idea of what we can do to fill the time.” Richie utters, still smirking, as he moves both hands to grip Eddie’s blanket. 

“Oh yeah?” Eddie remarks, eyebrows raised curiously. 

Richie nods and flings the blanket off in one pull, letting in sink to the floor. 

“Hey,” Eddie frowns, visibly upset yet making no move to recover his discarded blanket, “I was using that, asshole! It’s fucking cold!”

“Don’t need it,” Richie says firmly, “When I’m right here.” Without waiting for a reply, he intertwines their fingers with one hand and ghosts over Eddie’s waist with the other. Richie pulls him close, grinning widely when Eddie pushes up even closer to share his heat. 

A voice starts singing, feeling once again distant amongst the low rumbles of the heater and speaker’s static drones.

  


_I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy.  
I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need._

  


“Hi.” Richie leans in, voice hushed like he’s about to spill a secret. He takes a breath, slow but steady, and shifts forward until their foreheads meet.

“Hi,” Eddie whispers.

  


_I love you more with every breath, truly madly deeply do  
I will be strong, I will be faithful 'cause I'm counting on a new beginning.  
A reason for living. A deeper meaning._

  


“Dance with me?” Richie asks, lifting their clasped hands in the air as he tightens his grip on Eddie’s waist. Eddie nods and, before he can catch his breath, Richie, both literally and figuratively, sweeps him off his feet.

  


_I want to stand with you on a mountain.  
I want to bathe with you in the sea.  
I want to lay like this forever.  
Until the sky falls down on me._

  


They sway side-to-side, slow at first, gradually building in strength and rhythm as Richie leads them along. He rocks on his heels, waltzing them around like they’ve been doing it forever. It’s not without a few slips or a couple of clumsy mishaps, but with every fault their giggling only grows in volume.

  


_Oh can you see it baby?  
You don't have to close your eyes._

  


There’s something buzzing in the adjacent room, and a thud from down the hall followed by a slew of loud squeaking. But Eddie pays no mind, not right now, when he’s holding Richie like this. Foot caught on the rug, Richie slips again. He laughs loudly, only to cut off when Eddie pulls away until they’re connected by just their hands.

  


_'Cause it's standing right before you.  
All that you need will surely come._

  


Richie frowns.

Eddie smirks. 

Moving to stand on his toes, Eddie raises his arm above Richie’s head and twists his wrist. Richie snickers once he finally catches on, drawing yet another loud fit of giggles from both of them when he has to bend his arm and duck to complete the twirl. With a gentle tug, Eddie sweeps them back together, his hands shooting to Richie’s waist so he can pull them even closer. Head resting against Richie’s chest, Eddie returns them to paced, fluid sway.

  


_I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy.  
I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need.  
I'll love you more with every breath, truly madly deeply do._

  


“I love you.” 

Lost in the swell of music, Eddie traces his hands along Richie’s sides and back, memorizing every last detail he can. He already knows how often he’ll look back to this moment once Richie’s gone, clinging to the fleeting warmth their bodies share as they half-waltz to the beat across the cold kitchen tiles. 

Richie sighs, and with it sits the heavy weight of his heart. One hand lays wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders, the other resting on the back of his head. Eddie’s certain Richie senses his growing tension as he shifts silently beneath the man’s arms. An even quieter moment follows, one filled with a growing, bittersweet fondness as Richie pecks Eddie’s head with a kiss. 

_When you leave tomorrow,_ Eddie reminds him with a silent look, _It’s not for forever._ He pulls back to meet his love’s gaze and their eyes glisten, bright and fluorescent. _You’ll be back soon and I’ll be waiting._

A pause. 

_I know you’ll be_ , Richie says with a nod, unzipped to the barest layers of his conflicts. They clash, pride over triumphs and anguish over leaving; He knows he can’t have one without the other. _But that won’t make me miss you any less._

  


_I want to stand with you on a mountain.  
I want to bathe with you in the sea._

  


A chaste kiss on the lips. _You’re going to do amazing, sweetheart. Now everyone will get to see why I fell in love with you._

A palm through the hair. _Never would’ve gotten here without you._

A hand on the cheek. _You’ve done the same for me. You’ve shown me how happy I could be._

A squeeze of the shoulder. _You make me so fucking happy._

A hand atop the other. _It’s what you deserve. What we deserve. And I couldn’t ask for more even if I wanted to._

A tear down the face. _Thank you. For this. For us._

A thumb to wipe it away. _I should be the one thanking you._

  


_I want to lay like this forever.  
Until the sky falls down on me._

  


“I love you, too.”

  


* * *

  


“Hey Eds?”

Eddie’s gaze flicks up to meet Richie’s. He hums, unable to respond as he chews on the last few bites of their casserole. He raises his eyebrows to show he’s listening and wipes a napkin across his closed mouth. 

“They posted my interview about an hour ago, right before you got up,” Richie explains from across the table, plate empty and Leia squirming happily in his lap. He hurriedly scratches the puppy with both hands, traveling down her back, up to her ears, and around her stomach. 

Stiffening in his chair, Eddie immediately recognizes the quick, jerky movements of Richie’s hands for what they truly are. He’s certainly learned a lot about ADHD after living with Richie for nearly four months now, and he knows Richie fidgets his hands like this when he’s feeling overwhelmed or anxious. 

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, no louder than a whisper, “Number?”

Richie’s hands freeze in place as his mouth opens, then closes. “Uh,” He utters, “Five.”

With a nod, Eddie rises and walks to stand behind Richie. His hands make their way to Richie’s shoulders, giving them a squeeze before gliding down over his chest. Eddie plants a kiss on top of the man’s head before resting his cheek there. “Did you watch it?”

“No.” Richie starts to relax under Eddie’s touch and answers quickly. “I read the transcript but didn’t watch the video.”

“Do you not want to watch?” Eddie questions, running slow circles with his hands over Richie’s shirt. When Richie responds with nothing but a quiet shrug, he tries again. “Will you sit with me while _I_ watch it?”

Richie hesitates, contemplating. “Yeah, okay.”

A gentle, relieved smile flashes on Eddie’s face as he leans back and gives his boyfriend room to stand. He guides them to the couch, Leia’s tiny form still gingerly cradled in Richie’s arms. Eddie sits beside them, props up his laptop on the coffee table, and settles back against the cushions with his knees tucked beneath himself. He frowns when Richie starts vigorously petting Leia just like he had before. 

“Rich,” Eddie breathes, “You alright?”

Nodding, Richie laughs nervously as a smile finally breaks onto his face. “Yeah, sorry. I’m just trying not to think about the thousands of people who are definitely watching this right now.”

“Have you checked Twitter since it posted?” Eddie asks, quickly recognizing the same fearful gleam in Richie’s eyes as the day he first came out online. 

Richie shakes his head. 

“Good,” Eddie says, relieved, “Try not to worry about them right now, okay? I’m here with you, Leia’s here, and you know that we’re not going anywhere, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Richies with a few quick nods, expression brightening as his tension dissipates, “I know.”

Eddie beams, running a gentle hand through Richie’s hair and, upon receiving a heartfelt smile in return, reaches over to hit play on the video. Theme music laced with static fills the room, followed by a feminine voice and the image of a smiling young woman with long blonde hair. The camera cuts to Richie; They exchange short and polite pleasantries. Ones that set a good tone. Casual. Nothing less than fully honest.

  


_”How are you doing?”_

_”I’m, uh...pretty nervous.”_

  


“Hey, I remember that jacket. I picked that one out for you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did. I like that one.”

“Me too.”

Eddie lets himself sink back into the couch as he watches, engulfed with his and Richie’s heat as it migrates into the cushions. He scoots closer, wanting more of it, wanting to bury himself entirely in it. And Richie lets him. The man’s arm is stretched across the back of the couch now, Eddie’s head nestled into his shoulder.

  


_”You said it was a struggle coming to terms with your sexuality. Could you expand on that?”_

_”Diving right into the childhood trauma, huh?”_

  


“Oh my god. Richie.”

“What? Was I wrong?”

“That’s not funny.”

“Then why the fuck are you laughing, dingus?”

“...Fuck off.”

“Aw, my boyfriend thinks I’m funny!”

“ _Fuck off!_ ”

Eddie laughs against Richie’s shoulder, still wearing a smile after Richie jabs him in the side with a pointed finger. Curling in on himself, Eddie jerks and curses under his breath. Then, he jabs back. Richie snickers. Eddie joins in, but freezes when the sound of a growl rips through the room. The dozing puppy in Richie’s arms huffs loudly in annoyance.

Richie cackles again.

Eddie flips him off.

  


_”I know you briefly mentioned some things about homophobia in your tweets, but can you tell us more about that?”_

_”Yeah.”_

  


A blatant shift in the room. 

Eddie’s eyes widen as he watches in silence, his mouth forming a thin line. Moments pass, and the Richie onscreen begins discussing the homophobia he faced as a child. It’s not something Eddie likes to think about. To look back, knowing what he knows now, and spotting the signs he’d completely missed as a child. An outpour of emotion spills from his heart at Richie’s words. 

Anger, frustration, remorse. 

A guilt that stings like acid from every angle.

  


_”We pulled each other out of a lot of messes, but there were some things my friends couldn't always protect me from no matter how hard they tried. It was always the words that hurt most.”_

  


Richie must sense Eddie’s growing tension as well, for an open hand soon slides down his thigh to offer a firm squeeze. Eddie jumps at first, too absorbed in the video to see it coming, but relaxes quickly. He keeps his gaze turned towards the screen; He can sense Richie’s eyes on him. They dig into Eddie’s side, as if searching him for the smallest, most discreet reactions to what Richie is saying.

  


_”How did all of this impact your life as an adult?”_

_”Mostly in ways pertaining to my relationship with family and friends. This is hardest for me to talk about so, uh, I won’t go into it much.”_

  


“Richie…”

“Hm?”

“Look at you.”

“What?”

“Shit, Rich. You’re so fucking amazing. _Look at you!_ ”

“I’m just sitting there, Eds…”

“Yeah, sitting there talking about something that you find difficult to speak about, and not just to one person, but to thousands of people watching at home. You were scared, I _know_ how scared you were before this interview, but just look at you conquering it…”

“Oh.”

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”

“...Thanks, Eddie.”

A thrilled rush surges through Eddie as he tears his gaze from the laptop to peer at Richie, who’s wearing the smallest of smiles on his face. A glance towards Eddie makes it double in size, the man’s eyes glistening with something much more than just a simple _Thank you._

  


_”And they helped you get the help you needed?”_

_”Oh, yeah. That was all them.”_

  


“It wasn’t just us. It was also you.”

“Okay, but it was _mostly_ all of you.”

“But you’re the one who got yourself to this point. You need to give yourself credit, too.”

“I guess.”

“You what? What was that? I missed it.”

“Christ...alright, fine. I _know_.”

“Better.”

Richie lets his arm fall as they watch him discuss therapy, wrapping it tight around Eddie’s shoulders. The gesture elicits a content sigh from Eddie, who gladly scoots even closer to rest a partially-closed fist atop Richie’s chest. And Leia, still groggy and tired of her fathers’ inability to sit still, trots to the other end of the couch and jumps down to curl up in her bed.

The pair chuckles sheepishly.

  


_”I had this stupid crush on a boy in my class.”_

  


“Oh!”

“Ugh-”

“Are you talking about me?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, you _are_...”

  


_”I literally dreamed about the mere idea of holding his hand.”_

  


“That’s so fucking cute. Holy shit.”

“Stop.”

“Are you _blushing_?”

“Babe, please…”

“Hey, no, Rich, lemme see you. Come out from there.”

“No.”

“What if I held your hand?”

“I hate you.”

“Fine, I’ll stop holding your hand, then-”

“No, wait-”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

A bittersweet thrum of Eddie’s heart knocks him back as he looks upon the face of a man in grief. The Richie onscreen speaks of how they split apart over time, and Eddie feels a wave of comfort clash with anguish when his boyfriend mentions how happy they are now.

  


_”I’m such a proud father. She’s truly the light of my life, sorry Eds, but Leia is an angel and my entire life revolves around her.”_

  


“What the fuck!”

“Oh, don’t even fucking start. As if you wouldn’t say the same.”

“Rude.”

“Wait, Spaghetti-”

“Hm.”

“Eddie, _baby_ , please-”

“Shhh, I’m listening.”

Their laughter dies down, gradual yet gentle, until another silence swallows the room. Eddie can sense the drastic shift in mood. It’s much heavier than before. Thick, near-suffocating. He frowns at the sensation and turns to ask Richie what’s wrong, but his question is answered before it even leaves his lips.

  


_“Would you like to make a statement regarding previous comments you’ve made during shows that people are describing to be homophobic or sexist in nature?”_

_“Yes, I would. I’ve made comments during some of my very early shows that make me feel sick when I think about them. It’s not okay, no matter how you put it.”_

  


Eddie stiffens.

He doesn't speak, unable to conjure any words as he stares at the man he loves struggle to maintain composure. The only thing Eddie can bring himself to do is watch, mouth open, heart shattering, while the Richie onscreen begins to openly weep into a tissue.

  


_”How could anyone expect me to improve and learn from the mistakes that I’ve made if I just ignore them and pretend they never happened? That’s not how this shit works.”_

_”I recognize that I was taking my own trauma and using it as a shield, and in doing so I deflected pain away from myself but consequentially hurt other people in the process.”_

  


It’s not easy to watch. 

Not for Eddie, at least. He can sense Richie frozen in fear beside him, surely spiraling and waiting for his pre-recorded self to say something wrong. Something that’ll make Eddie want to leave. The notion only tears Eddie apart all over again as he realizes Richie may be mistaking his stunned silence for rejection.

  


_”I want to become the best version of myself I can possibly be, someone I know my younger self would look up to. I’m not there yet, but I’m working hard every day to get closer to that point.”_

  


Heart racing, jaw clenched, Eddie reaches back to grab one of the hands Richie retracted just moments prior. He clasps it between both of his own, offering a grounding squeeze and a wordless reminder that he’s _here_. And that he always will be. 

A second passes, then another, both of them slow and equally as agonizing, before Richie lightly squeezes him back.

  


_”This one is for all of you out there who have ever felt like I did. Not just the kids who feel like an outsider because of feelings you don’t fully understand yet, but also to all of you adults out there who feel like you’ve done everything too late or that you wasted so much time pretending to be someone you’re not.”_

  


The words strike with the force of a lethal blow. But in truth, Eddie sees, as he opens his mouth to speak and finds he can't, that no words exist that can properly capture the web of everything he’s feeling. It’s intricate, intertwined, and spread so thin it can’t be seen. 

But it’s everywhere. Clinging, pulling, tearing, snapping.

  


_”You are so incredibly strong, beautiful, and inspiring.”_

  


Woven like his life suddenly depends on it.

  


_”You’re braver than you think.”_

  


Immaculate.

Eddie turns to Richie, face flushed and tears already falling, as the voice onscreen continues without pause. Then, another shift. This one is unlike the other in that it leaves Eddie fulfilled and elated when Richie sees his tears and smiles back. The man gives Eddie’s hands another firm squeeze, sitting up until their shoulders brush. 

Eddie inhales a sharp, shaky breath and leans into the touch. “Rich-”

“Wait,” Richie says quickly, eyes glistening with his own tears as the grin on his face only grows. He points towards the screen, directing Eddie’s attention back to the interview just as Richie’s pre-recorded voice floods the room.

  


_”And I’ve learned over these past few months that maybe I am, too. I don’t think I’ll need to question that anymore when I look into this daunting ass camera lens and tell you: My name is Richie Tozier and I am a proud gay man.”_

  


Suddenly, Eddie’s falling— 

—No, ascending.

Wherever the fuck he’s going, he’s spinning, left and right, up and down, body being pulled in every direction as a weight within him lifts and shrivels to dust. Feeling lighter than he ever has, almost too light, Eddie gasps and tries to reign his thoughts. 

But how can he? He fought so long. They faced their fears. Conquered their battles. Killed their monsters. They won, in the end, and not without great sacrifice. 

They’re here and they won and it’s fucking magnificent and so much more than Eddie ever could’ve dreamed for himself— but it’s real. It’s fucking real and right in front of him and they are both free to not just take what they want but to feel pride in doing so— 

—Something they deserve, Eddie thinks.

Tears cascade down Eddie’s face without restraint, his vision blurring as he turns and grasps Richie’s face in both hands. Eddie pulls them close. Foreheads meeting, tears on cheeks smearing. And yet, it doesn’t feel like enough. Not close enough, not intimate enough to convey the silent message he intends for Richie to hear. 

“Eds-”

“Rich,” Eddie cries, practically pawing at the man’s cheeks and hair, trying and failing to bring them even closer than they already are, “Richie, sweetheart, I’m so fucking proud of you. Shit, that doesn’t feel like enough, it’s so much more than that, Rich. It’s-”

“Eddie, I-”

“Richie,” Eddie gasps, sucking in another uneven breath as he sobs, “I love you so much-”

“Eddie, baby, I-” Richie starts, laughing as his hands quickly run up-and-down Eddie’s sides, “Shit, I love you too, but please keep watching.”

“Wh-” Eddie shakes his head and pulls back a bit, disoriented. 

“Watch, Eds.” Richie says, low but warm.

His eyes glisten with a mix of pride and gratitude, but there’s something there as well. Something Eddie’s never seen before. A look of someone fully-realized, a gleam of newfound purpose that, for some reason, whispers something along the lines of _I’m ready._

Eddie doesn’t understand why until he hears the words himself.

  


_”As of today, thirty percent of the proceeds earned from all twenty-four of my shows will be donated to LGBT organizations currently raising funds for mental health awareness of all ages. And to those who can’t attend one of my shows, there’s a link on my social media pages that takes you directly to my fundraising site that has all the information you need to donate from home.”_

  


To witness such resolute devotion is its own grace.

Eddie feels every last fraction of it swell within his heart, threatening to burst with unfathomable love. Though it still doesn’t feel like enough. It’s not enough to convey in the same way Eddie knows he’ll never be able to look at this man like he hung the stars. Eddie knows he can’t because, for him, Richie never stopped at the stars.

  


_”We’ve got this. Now go out there and spread some love.”_

  


Once the stars were hung, Richie strung the sun and tethered it to the moon. He weaved the clouds like broken limbs and used them to paint tear-stained skies. Every day he adds more, farther away but all the more gratifying, and Eddie wants to see it all. Every last piece, every tiny fragment. 

But even then, Eddie knows it won’t be enough to show just how _much_ Richie makes him feel.

Nothing will _ever_ be enough, will it?

  


* * *

  


Hearts pound, cracks of lightning in a storm. Lips crash like thunder. Eddie slips, bites his tongue, hisses like the sting of wind. They cry. Tears hot like a midsummer rain, drawing them closer. It envelops them so tightly, _too_ tightly, yet Eddie can’t bring himself to pull away. Not with this much love inside him to give. 

“Eddie-” A voice says, distant, swallowed by the storm. 

Something high-pitched unfurls in Eddie’s throat, a means to convey this desperate rush as it consumes him. He tries to force it out, hands clasped on either side of Richie’s head, curved fingers raking against the grain of his hair. A heated sigh of defeat. A pause. Then lips meet, slot together, pressing deeper and more urgently. 

They sigh again, as one this time. 

“Eds-” 

Eddie hears it now, his voice, _Richie’s_ voice, as it pulls him back. Grounds him. Tethers them together through the haze. It’s better, clearer. Though it does nothing to restrain the swell of adrenaline pooling inside him. 

_Too much_ , another voice says as Eddie delves in for more, to which he hastily responds, _No, not enough._

Never enough. 

“I love you,” Eddie says, cupping Richie’s face, as if the words sear his throat with every second he tries to hold them in, “I _love_ you.”

A faltering stare in return, utterly awestruck. “Eds? What’s wrong?”

Tears fall as Eddie’s laughter floods the room, the sound but a whisper amidst the racing thuds in his chest. It’s erratic, loud, but _driving_ as Eddie lunges forward. He steals a frantic, breathless kiss, then another, followed by a few more. All the while, Eddie speaks in between, trying to give, give, _give_ as much as he can in hopes that it’s enough. 

_It still isn’t,_ He briefly acknowledges, _Of course it fucking isn’t._

“I was right beside you from the start, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, harsh and urgent, like he can’t get the words out fast enough, “I saw what it was like for you at the beginning. I saw your pain and I _felt_ your pain and it killed me every day, Richie. I hated seeing you suffer-”

They kiss, open-mouthed and longing, as Eddie’s tongue sweeps across Richie’s bottom lip and elicits a shiver. 

“I knew there was something wrong, and I knew you wanted to ask for help,” Eddie continues, breaths growing heavy. His hands slide down to tightly grip Richie’s shoulders. “And I tried, I tried so hard, Rich, because even before I knew I felt this way about you I wanted you to feel safe and happy and _deserving_ of everything you could ever want-”

“Eddie…”

Another kiss. A push-and-pull of parted lips that makes Eddie grow dizzy as the rest of the world blurs around them. 

“And when you did tell me, Richie, I felt like the most ecstatic person in the entire fucking world,” Eddie smiles widely, speaking even faster now, “I was already so damn proud of you then, I didn’t know it was possible to feel more than that, but sweetheart, I did, I _do_ , and it’s fucking _phenonemal_ -”

A squeeze of Eddie’s hands is all it takes to guide Richie backwards, slow and smooth until his head hits the armrest. Then, a sharp inhale, a swing of Eddie’s leg that ends in a straddle. They settle, breathing low, as Eddie runs shaky hands up Richie’s stomach and towards his chest. 

“And then you go and post it to the whole fucking world,” Eddie exhales, astonished, while eyeing the man beneath his hands with a treasured fondness. Like he’s marveling at the mere sight of him, caught in a cloud of disbelief. “You did that. _You_ did that, Rich. You were scared out of your mind but you didn’t let that stop you. You did this interview and said all of those amazing things despite how _terrified_ I know you were, and Richie, dearest, you _astound_ me.”

Richie sniffs, then stutters a laugh. “Fuck, Eds-”

“It’s true, Rich, it’s all completely true,” Eddie asserts with a building fervor. He seals a kiss, this one messy and quick, heart racing faster than it ever has before. “Look at you, Richie, just look at where you are now. You said in the video you want to become someone your younger self could look up to, but oh, sweetheart, you already are. _Look_ at yourself.”

“Eds,” Richie huffs, grasping Eddie’s waist and giving a light squeeze. Eddie peers down, meeting the man’s disheveled gaze. It threatens to break when Richie’s eyes gleam. “You really think that?”

 _Doesn’t believe me_ , Eddie notes sourly. 

“Every fucking word of it.” Voice unwavering, eyes locked with Richie’s, Eddie beams. He smiles as brightly as the sun Richie knows him to be. “I’m never gonna stop telling you because you deserve to see yourself that way, too. And I’ll _keep_ telling you even when you do, because I want you to know everything I see when I look at you. And fuck, Rich, when I look at you…”

He briefly trails off, more tears falling. 

“Richie, when I look at you…” Eddie says, voice now quiet. Trusting. A hand comes to rest atop Richie’s cheek, eyes going glassy. “I see a man who helped me feel as brave as you always say I am. Someone who showed me a love so real and messy and natural and fulfilling that I didn’t even fucking see it for what it was at first, because Rich, it was always there, I think.”

A strained whisper, scrunched face. “Eddie, what the fuck, I love you so much, _fuck_ , I feel it too, Eds, it’s just like that-”

Eager lips meet, long and dragging. There’s something else in Eddie’s chest now, and it hums with an insatiable warmth that has the man pressing as much of his body against Richie as he can, searching for more. Desperate to find more and never let go.

“But now I _know_ it’s there and, shit, I can feel it _everywhere_ ,” Eddie pants with a quick, chaste kiss, “You make me feel insane but in the best fucking way. I look at you and I can’t believe you’re mine, that I get to be yours. That someone like you wants to love every side of me so openly, so freely, and that they’re _proud_ to do it. How the fuck did I manage to find someone as beautiful as you to fall in love with?”

One silent moment passes before Richie breaks. 

“Eds-” Richie sniffs, tears marking his face and glasses, “I love you, I l-love you, I love you so fucking much, _I love y-you_ -”

Gentle thumbs across the cheeks, a vulnerable whimper. Two smiles that mirror the same unconditional love. Expressions of a wordless promise stitched by the early sun’s magenta rays. 

“Beautiful,” Eddie repeats, drinking up the magnificent sight beneath him, “You’re so damn _beautiful_ , sweetheart.”

“Nobody, uh-” Richie flashes a surprised grin between his cries, “Nobody’s said those things to me before, Eds, I-”

Something glistens in Eddie’s eyes, adoring yet bittersweet. 

“Eddie, I-” Richie starts, gasping between words, “I know what it feels like. When you said it all feels like so much at once that no matter what you say or do it never feels like enough. I could thank you every second for the rest of my life, Eddie, my love, I don’t think it’d ever be enough.”

 _You understand_ , Eddie exhales, relieved, _Of course you do, I knew you would._

In an instant, it’s so simple. Still so, so much. But suddenly so fucking tangible that Eddie can’t hold back his laughter. 

“What?” Richie asks, eyebrow quirked amusedly. 

“Does it feel like this?” 

Eddie grasps Richie’s wrist, pulls it up until the man’s splayed hand rests upon his chest. Heart hammering, pulse jumping, Eddie watches as Richie’s eyes widen in surprise. He feels it, too. Richie’s gaze flicks between his hand on Eddie’s heart and the avid eyes above him. 

The man nods, half-smile flashing, as he mirrors the gesture.

Then, there’s something pulsing beneath Eddie’s hand. Rapid but rhythmic drums that seem to sync perfectly with his own heart’s frantic beats. “Yes,” Eddie laughs blissfully, “Exactly that, holy shit-”

Richie kisses him.

It’s deliciously warm, filled with dozens of silent _I know_ ’s that make Eddie push back with more force. That dull hum in his chest stirs. Swirling, building. Sending out waves of heat that feel like a protective caress. It’s electric, this need inside him, and it’s growing with a sense of blatant urgency that Eddie can barely contain. 

“Richie, I’ve never felt anything like this before,” Eddie pants, low and desperate, hot breaths intermixing with Richie’s in a way that makes him light-headed, “I feel like I can barely breathe, like my whole body is fucking _vibrating_ , it’s so fucking _much_ , Rich-”

A breathy chuckle. “We’ll get used to it, I think.”

_No, wait-_

Eddie pulls back, a hunger blooming in his chest as he flushes from head-to-toe. His eyes widen, lips forming a tight line. He catches Richie’s gaze. Pauses, takes a breath. Then he shakes his head, quickly, _insistently_ , while running a hand back up to tangle his fingers through the man’s ruffled hair.

_That’s not what I meant-_

Richie notices and frowns. “Eds-“

“Richie, I don’t think I want to get used to it,” Eddie admits with a quick and steady breath, unblinking as another wave of adrenaline surges through him. He clings to the rush and holds it as long as he can, unable to comprehend how he made it so far in life without feeling something like this, something as fantastically _beautiful_ as this, until now. “I hope we fucking _never_ get used to it.” 

A heavy breath, harsh and shuddering, falls from Richie’s parted lips. It splits the air, wrecks the silence. Draws a shiver from the man above him as they watch each other’s eyes grow dark. Richie blinks, eyes glistening and expression raw with need, before he finally nods in reply. 

Then, time blends.

An endearing smile, an urgent gasp laced with relief, a savage kiss that knocks their teeth together and elicits a wince.

Richie’s hands envelop him from below, sliding, gripping, pawing, squeezing. Attacks from all sides that have Eddie falling forwards until their chests collide. But even now, as entangled as they are, it’s not close enough. Shifting with haste, Eddie combs both hands through Richie’s hair and ducks his head low. He nips along Richie’s jawline, hot breath flush against the man’s exposed neck, another storm brewing within him. 

It’s that same sensation in his chest, a desperate, growing hunger, as it unleashes waves of inexplicable need with the force of a hurricane. 

_Too much,_ That same voice utters.

Not enough.

It threatens to swallow Eddie whole as it becomes overwhelming, thoughts racing, surroundings fading into nothing. 

_It’s too fucking much-_

Never enough.

But Eddie knows what he needs, and he knows how to get it. 

A deep breath quickly follows, a steady exhale. Then, Eddie pulls back just enough to drag his tongue along the junctures of Richie’s neck. Squirming beneath him, Richie gasps, the sounds from his hanging mouth growing louder and acting as something for Eddie to latch onto. 

Sounds of a voice that reassures Eddie. Ones that tell him he’s safe, trusted, cared for, and unconditionally loved. 

Hearing Richie helps, it always has. 

Like how it did on that night he found himself pinned onto the couch, slipping away from the present as Richie sucked marks onto his neck. Or that morning Eddie coaxed Richie out of his shirt without the cover of night, hungrily kissing the man as he pressed between Eddie’s legs from where he sat atop the kitchen counter. Or the evening Eddie cornered Richie the moment they arrived home, still in their suits, lost in the feeling of grinding up against Richie’s thigh, and Richie on his waist. 

Tears subside and lips part, only to collide again. 

Eddie gauges the most sensitive spots along his lover's neck, focusing on Richie’s sounds and using them to quell the storm in his mind. Its thunder wanes to a dull rumble, the rain to nothing but a light patter of secondhand thoughts. _Much better,_ Eddie sighs to himself, relieved, _Clear again_. 

But with this new clarity comes a burning swell of lust that’s near-suffocating. 

Richie feels it too, Eddie knows he does, when the man drags his nails down the sides of his arms. The heat in Eddie’s chest ignites, evoking a visible, full-body shudder from where he kneels above Richie. Eddie huffs. Sits up. Slides his shirt off in one fluid movement and tosses it aside, already forgotten before it hits the hardwood floor. 

“For fuck’s sake-” Richie starts, openly gaping as Eddie kneels shirtless above him. 

“What?” Eddie’s flushed and smirking. 

“You know _exactly_ what, you little shit, _look_ at you!” Richie snaps, gesturing up and down Eddie’s toned torso. “You’re fucking _hot_!”

A frown, pointedly serious despite the stains of tears and rising pink tinge of Eddie’s cheeks. “Watch it, Tozier. That’s my line.”

“Ha! Eds gets off a good one!”

Richie laughs. 

Eddie doesn’t. “Take off your shirt.”

“What?”

“I know you heard me, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, a command masked under a teasing tone. He leans down, takes his time. Runs bared teeth along the man’s earlobe before giving it a light tug. Richie goes pliant beneath him, face flushing red. “Now take off your shirt so I can see how beautiful you are.”

A partially-stifled whimper, jumbles of shifting couch cushions. 

Feather-light chuckles that fill the room when Richie loses his glasses in the process and dives to snatch them up from the floor. A sense of trust that manifests a calm, welcoming ambience. Eddie’s never felt more relaxed with anyone else. Comfortable enough to express his trepidations, to laugh freely, to know he’ll never be ignored. 

A gift he’ll guard forever, like his most sacred treasure.

“There, see? Look at _you_ , Rich, you’re gorgeous,” Eddie breathes in awe, gaze tracing down Richie’s bare torso with rapt attention. He runs a hand across the dark hair covering Richie’s chest and relishes in the squirm of the man’s legs that follows. “So should we pick up where we left off after our date?”

Richie nods, cackling to himself as Eddie dives down and wastes no time licking a hot trail up his neck. “You mean when you came within ten seconds flat of me getting my hand on your dick, my love?”

Eddie nips Richie’s neck in response. Sucks the same spot. Quietly giggles to himself when Richie’s laughter cuts off with a sudden gasp. Smiling, Eddie ghosts his lips over the man’s skin and elicits a tremble. “That’s some big talk, Tozier, considering you finished before I could even unzip your pants.”

“Not my fault.” 

Amused, perplexed laughter. “What?”

“You had me pinned against a wall, you little menace,” Richie says quickly, breath hitching when Eddie snakes down to plant to trail of kisses along his chest, “Rubbing up on me like a fucking _jackhammer_ -” 

Another nip at the skin, another snicker.

“Oh, so it’s _my_ fault?” 

“Yes, that’s exactly wh— oh, _shit_ -” Richie jerks as Eddie glides his tongue over a nipple, smiling against the man’s flushed skin before closing his mouth. A pleased hum builds in his throat. Richie feels the vibration of Eddie’s voice and mirrors the sound, louder and more guttural.

“What was that, dear?” Eddie asks playfully once they part. He laughs, removes his hands, and laughs for a second time when Richie whines needily at the loss of touch. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.” 

Eddie descends, relishing in the closeness to Richie’s heat as he takes the same nipple back into his mouth. He alternates between sucking and flicking his tongue as he tweaks the other between two fingers, basking in the sweet sounds slipping past Richie’s clenched teeth. They’re deep yet high-pitched. Smothered with a longing so fierce that makes Eddie want to scream.

So fucking worked up already, and they’ve barely started. 

Heart pounding at the sight, Eddie feels another rush of desire strike directly in the stomach. An impact that fuels the building warmth as it crescendos in Eddie’s abdomen. It whispers to him, urging him _closer_ , to take even _more_ of what Richie has to offer. To feel Richie everywhere at once. Eddie obliges without a second thought. “Richie, you’re so— _oh_ -”

“Oh, Eddie baby, did you forget?” Richie snickers under his breath as he recovers from Eddie’s onslaught against his chest. He grins, expression devious, and bucks his hips up again. “ _Two_ can play this game.”

A tickling pleasure surges up from Eddie’s groin and suddenly, he’s far too aware of how hard he already is in his pants.

When the _fuck_ did he-

“What were you about to say, Eds?” Richie smirks, teasing, as he firmly grips Eddie’s hips and drags the man down to meet his next upward thrust. Stifling a moan at the feeling of Richie’s clothed erection brushing up against his own, Eddie slumps forward and buries his face against Richie’s neck. He feels it again, that growing need as it unfurls in his chest and sets his body alight. 

He needs more and he needs it _now_. 

“ _Oh, fuck,_ -” Eddie inhales, jumping when he feels Richie’s hands slide back along the curve of his ass and grip tight, pulling them even closer. “F-fuck you-“

“So _now_ who’s gonna be the one to cream their pants, hm?” Richie teases. Eddie’s distracted, too caught up in the swirling winds of his mind as he tries to restrain them with the sound of Richie’s voice. He jumps, caught completely off-guard when Richie’s tongue traces along his shoulders and neck. 

A startled gasp followed by a wet smack of parting lips. 

Then, a bout of light-hearted laughs.

Eddie takes a moment to ground himself again, huffing tiredly and waiting for the perfect moment to strike back. He finds it quickly, catching Richie unaware as he leans up to nip at Eddie’s earlobe. A shift on Eddie’s knees comes next, along with a fluid glide of his tongue over Richie’s other nipple. 

“Still you, bub.” 

Flashing a smirk, Eddie rakes his nails along Richie’s shoulders. He shifts once more, angles his waist, slots their hips together. All it takes is two firm, downward thrusts before Eddie has Richie near-sobbing. 

“Competitive little shit,” Richie snaps in something between a gasp and a laugh, as Eddie grinds down again, eyes wide and hands tightly gripping the cushions, “ _Fuck_ , okay, _okay_ , shit— you’re right, it’s fucking me, I’m-“

“Don’t even think about it,” Eddie snaps in warning, voice taut. He huffs, straining to keep the heat of his own pleasure under control, and thrusts down once more. The movement elicits a full-body spasm that Eddie relishes. 

“ _Eddie what the fuck_ -“

Laughing breathily, Eddie devours the sight of Richie unraveling beneath him. A flushed pink in his cheeks that spreads down to his heaving chest, furrowed brows paired with tightly-shut eyes, kiss-swollen lips parted by frantic breaths.

Hot waves of lust flood through Eddie the longer he stares, awestruck that he and he alone made Richie like this. 

And that only _Eddie_ will ever get to see him this way. 

The thought elicits a shiver that tickles his spine, traveling down to pool in his groin. Hot yet cold. Both unnerving and exhilarating. A kind of rush Eddie’s never felt in his life, and one he already knows he’ll long for every night while Richie’s away. 

Exhaling deeply, Eddie runs both hands along Richie’s torso, halting at the waistband of his sweatpants. He hesitates, his overwhelming need to pleasure Richie consuming him.

 _Eddie, baby, it’s you that I’m into_ , Richie told him just two days ago, _Whatever you like, I’m sure I’ll be game cause I just wanna make you feel good._

They’d just gotten back from their STD tests, which Richie had insisted they get despite having both already tested negative since their last partners. It was mostly for Eddie’s sake. So he can see it on paper himself when he needs to, and just another reason Eddie loves and appreciates Richie more than he has anyone else. 

_I don’t even know what I like, Richie_ , Eddie confessed that same day, interrupting their talk about boundaries, safe words, and things they potentially wanted to try.

_That’s the beauty of it, Eds. Now you’ve got the chance to find out. And, uh, I’m...I’m just really fucking happy that it’s me you get to try those things with. I’ll take such good care of you, Eddie..._

_I know. And me too, Rich. There’s no one I trust more to do that with than you._

_Oh. Thanks, Spagheds. I trust you, too._

A subtle smirk, a delayed surge of confidence. An open hand that glides down to palm Richie through the fabric, all followed by a loud gasp. Then, the whisper of Eddie’s name in a broken voice. Heart leaping as Richie jerks his hips off the cushions beneath him, Eddie closes a loose hand around Richie and gives a playful, experimentative stroke.

“Oh, _yes_ Eddie-“

Fuck.

Eddie feels himself twitch in his pants at the utterly shameless whimper, body going hot all over. He pushes the urge to touch himself to the side, however, favoring the act of pleasuring Richie instead. His grip tightens, pressing down by the slightest fraction. 

“You gonna ruin your pants again?” Eddie asks, voice low and deviously teasing, as he strokes Richie once more. He does so the same way he had after their date, watching Richie wildly buck his hips at the contact. “Or are you gonna let me get my hands on you this time?” 

Eddie shudders at his own words. 

Not sure why.

Richie gasps, hips rising completely off the couch in protest when Eddie suddenly retracts his hand. “You’re a fucking _tease_ , Kaspbrak-“

“That’s not an answer.” Rough exhales slip past Eddie’s lustful half-smile, and he allows himself one moment of weakness to grip himself through his pants to relieve some tension.

Richie nearly blacks out when he pries his eyes open and sees it for himself.

“Please,” Richie whimpers, eyes glassy as he cries out again. Eddie returns his hand and adds a bit more pressure at the response. Richie, already lost to the feeling of Eddie’s hand on him through the fabric, fails to stifle low moans that come with every slow, dragged-out stroke. “Eddie, baby, _please_ ,” Richie outright begs, “Touch me.”

Eddie pats either side of Richie’s waist with his hands, gesturing for the man to raise his hips off the cushions. Richie does so, legs pressed together beneath Eddie as he works to slide the baggy pair of sweatpants off. It takes some maneuvering, but Eddie now has Richie laid out before him in nothing but his noticeably-tented boxers.

“Star destroyer underwear, huh?” 

Richie laughs proudly, voice laced with a lighthearted warmth despite the growing look of need on his flushed face. “It’s all a part of my grand scheme to seduce you.”

A meaningful, energetic love strikes Eddie in the chest, knocking out strings of youthful laughter. 

The notion summons a boost of reassurance in Eddie, making him feel lighter, calmer. He finds solace in Richie’s familiar gaze. Glimpses that stretch back to the blurred edges of his earliest memories. An endearing gaze, agape and exuberant, one that Eddie could stare at forever. 

There’s no one else for him.

“Yeah?” Eddie jabs, giggling when Richie dances his fingers along his sides, right where it tickles. “And h-how’s that— Rich, _stop that_ — how’s that working out for you?” 

_Yes, you’re it,_ Eddie thinks— no, he _knows_ , as a sultry pleasure intermixes with a rush of nostalgic joy inside him, _Oh Richie, my love, you’ve always been it for me._

“You tell me, babe,” Richie winks. 

“Or I could show you?” A new hesitation laces Eddie’s voice, followed by a vague sense of uncertainty. 

He ignores it. 

Voice lower now, a hot desire building up inside him once again, Eddie struggles to keep his thoughts contained. Richie feels it too, it’s written all over his face. A heated stare with widened eyes, pupils blown, as a shudder of a breath falls from his parted lips.

_It’s a lot._

Eddie quirks an eyebrow, a curious smirk flashing on his face when he slides both hands up his boyfriend’s thighs. His fingers dip beneath Richie’s garments and travel upwards, nails digging against his skin as they run their way back down. Heaving out a loud breath, head falling back against the arm of the couch, Richie writhes beneath every one of Eddie’s prolonged touches. 

_So much._

Not enough.

Richie starts making those delicious sounds again, and Eddie melts. Whines that build in Richie’s throat, deeper moans that vibrate in his chest, harsh breaths intermixed with lust-filled whimpers. A chorus of noise all from a single person, enough to rival the upsurge of a waiting storm. 

_Too much._

Never enough.

Lost in the responsiveness of Richie to his touch, Eddie slides firm hands up to grasp the waistline hem of the man’s boxers. 

A pause, another shudder, suddenly anxious. 

Eddie knows why this time.

From this point onwards, everything is new territory for him. Unfamiliar, unexplored. Like a turbid wall that Eddie must find a way to pass. He’s hit a few of them so far and, with every stop he makes, a flood of self-conscious worry soon follows. Eddie knows he’ll get past it quickly. He’s done so all week, but that doesn’t stop the building pool of dread that lurks just out-of-sight. 

One that convinces Eddie he won’t be able to please Richie in all the ways he wants to. 

Fuck.

 _Eddie, baby, it’s you that I’m into_. 

But Richie would never lie to him, not about something like this. 

Right?

 _I trust you_.

“Eds,” Richie huffs from below, expression faltering the slightest fraction, “You okay?”

_Too much. Too much. Too much._

“Yeah, sorry.” Eddie shakes his head to rid it of distractions, chuckling breathily. He curls his fingertips beneath the fabric’s seams and starts to pull down, feeling the intense, frantic pounds of his heart as his previous confidence rapidly wavers. “I-”

“Oh holy shit, wait, _wait_ -”

“What is it?” Eddie freezes where he kneels above Richie, frowning with concern as the man panickedly snatches Eddie’s wrist and holds them in place. Hundreds of thoughts fly through his mind at once, evoking an anxious shiver. “Did I do something wrong-”

_Did I already mess this up for you—_

—Wait. 

Richie, he’s not looking at Eddie. There’s something else, something much lower and off to the side, that holds the man’s gaze so fervently. A troubled frown, a moment of silence. Then, a muffled sound as Eddie grows rigid with instant recognition. 

A tiny squeak. 

“Oh.”

“Eddie, she's awake.”

“Yeah, Rich, I can fucking see that,” Eddie snaps, hastily glancing over his shoulder at the small black figure shifting around in the dog bed beside the couch, “Fuck, I forgot she was even _there_ -”

“Eddie I’m sorry but my dick will _not_ be making an appearance if Leia’s in the same room.”

“Richie she’s a _dog_ -”

“Yeah but that dog is our— she’s our fucking _daughter_ , Eddie, she can’t see us like this!”

“I don’t want her to either! I’m just saying she’s also a dog and she doesn’t even understand th-”

“But how do you _know_ that? What if she sees and she thinks w-”

“Richard Tozier,” Eddie snaps, finger pointing directly at Richie, “You are _not_ bringing up the ‘What is Leia Thinking’ conversation right now. I won’t allow it.”

“But-”

“Bedroom.” Eddie stands in a flash and makes no move to hide his arousal, which is blatantly apparent even beneath two layers of clothing. 

Richie flails off the couch, stumbling to catch up.

  


* * *

  


Richie crosses the threshold of his own bedroom seconds later, a cool gust of air breezing past as Eddie quickly swings the door shut behind them. But then, a whimper. Tiny pads of feet atop the hardwood just outside the door. A softening expression as Eddie re-opens the door to peek around it. “Sorry, lovebug,” Eddie murmurs. He sighs, bends low, tousles the fur on Leia’s ears. “We’ll be out in a bit, okay? Go get your chew toy.”

To Eddie’s surprise, Leia stares for a drawn-out moment and scampers back to the other room. He watches her go, heart warm and smile fond, only to turn back and see Richie eyeing him with an identical expression. “What?”

“I love you.” A rush of calm. Richie’s stare is gentle, yet insistent. Aglow with unwavering adoration as flashes of that same, desperate hunger come crawling back now that they’re alone.

“I love you, too.”

“So,” Richie half-huffs, voice lower now, sounding just as keyed up as Eddie feels, “Where were we?”

Eddie opens his mouth to answer, but Richie is quick to silence him. He’s pushed back, pinned against the door, legs opening just enough for Richie to fit his thigh in between. They move together, acting not on thought but from what feels right. A deliberate thrust forward, like crashing waves. Heads wildly thrown in every direction. Muffled gasps sharp enough to slice through wind. 

Eddie shivers, body teeming with an electrifying rush of anticipation. With it comes a shift. The swell of pleasure from their gradual, teasing build-up in the adjacent room is suddenly replaced with a frantic need for release. It’s strong, and Eddie doesn’t quite know what to make of it, but he embraces it. “ _Richie_ -”

Another firm grind of Richie’s hips against his. 

“Fuck, Eddie-” Richie speaks to him, voice distant despite the breaths of hot air against Eddie’s ears. “I think I could come just from this-”

“No, don’t-” Eddie nearly whispers, out-of-breath. His thoughts churn, brewing another flood of self-doubt in his mind. He ignores it, trying to convince himself to just _do it_. “Wanna touch you-“

“You sure, Eds?” Richie asks, voice tight as he tries to restrain his movements, “You looked like you froze up for a second out there.”

 _Doesn’t believe me_ , Eddie notes for the second time today, equally as sour.

“I-,” Eddie falters, eyes fluttering shut as he strokes Richie through his boxers with the same movements as before. His voice is strained now, tense but desperate to continue. Like a fuse that’s too late to put out. “No, I’m-“ 

Eddie hits his wall, trapped, a side of himself he’d been trying to hide from Richie slipping through to the surface. The confident gleam in his eyes from the adjacent room fades, replaced by a subtle, hesitant expression.

“Eddie,” Richie utters, tone instantly serious, hands rising to grip Eddie’s shoulders. Their gazes meet, and Richie silently reaches up to tenderly comb the few loose strands of hair away from Eddie’s face. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Richie, it’s not— I...I want this.” 

“Yeah,” Richie breathes low, almost laughing, throwing a glance down towards the obvious bulge of Eddie’s pants as if to ease the tension, “I think you and your dick are in agreement with that. But you know we don’t have to, right?”

“Shut up.” Eddie can’t hide the small smile that flashes on his face. “Yes, I know, of course I do. That’s not—“

“You jumpy again?” Richie utters, knowing, voice lower than a whisper. “Like last time?”

“I-” Eddie cuts off.

He shuts his mouth, nods shamefully. Finally lets Richie fully see past the confident demeanor he’d so easily embodied just minutes ago when everything they did was _familiar_. Of course Richie noticed that clash between apprehension and deep longing in his eyes last time. 

_Of course_ Richie saw it now, and fuck, Eddie loves him for it. As humiliated as he might feel right now, he’s never felt so looked-after in his life. He swallows, suddenly nervous, at the aspect of not being able to do the same for Richie to an equal capacity. 

“It’s fucking stupid,” Eddie heaves a sigh, frustrated with himself. 

“Oh, good! I’m fluent in that,” Richie winks, drawing a light chuckle from Eddie. He ghosts a thumb along Eddie’s cheek, smiling soft in an attempt to calm his nerves. “Tell me how I can help you.”

“I just—“ Eddie starts, cutting himself off multiple times before he finally gets a firm grasp on the words racing through his mind. “I want this to be good for you. I want to _make_ you feel good but, Rich, I don’t know what I’m doing-“

Richie blinks, stunned at the abrupt change of Eddie’s tone from the adjacent room. “Eds...“

“You know that,” Eddie continues, faster now, keyed up, “I _know_ you know that. And I just— I don’t know. I’m just frustrated because I should’ve figured this shit out years ago, _we_ could’ve figured this out years ago if— if we hadn’t-“ 

“Oh, baby,” Richie sighs, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s forehead, voice low and laced with a mutual sadness. A gentle thumb brushes over the scar on his cheek. “I know, Eds, I know.”

A tender kiss follows, lighter than air. 

And it helps. Eddie feels grounded again, even through the growing haze in his mind. He feels safe, face cupped gingerly in Richie’s warm hands. “You know that racing mind stuff you get?” 

Richie nods.

“I think it feels like that,” Eddie confesses, stealing another quick series of kisses between his words, “You know how I can get sometimes, doing things I’ve never done-”

“But you always try them anyways.”

Another nod, from Eddie this time. Quick and short-lived. Then, heavy breaths. Chests pressed together, foreheads touching. 

A kiss even gentler than the last.

“Every time we—” Eddie starts, cutting off again when Richie grips his shoulders tight, pulls him closer. “I get so worried that I can’t— that I won’t make you feel as good as I want you to, that I can’t return how much you give me-”

“Eddie-”

“I’m fine once I’ve done something once, but before that I just freak myself out.” Latching both arms around Richie’s waist, Eddie pulls the man towards him until their hips slot together once more. They both gasp, jerking at the abrupt pressure on their forgotten erections, before Eddie repeats the movement. “I get so caught up in making sure I don’t fuck up that it’s all I can think about, and I can’t fucking _stop_ -”

“ _Eddie_ -”

“And I— when you get anxious, I— I’m always so _certain_ about what I’m doing to help you, you know?” Eddie adds quickly, trying to pull Richie even closer. “You respond really well to that, and I— I’m trying to be that now but it’s just hard when I haven’t— when you’re the only-”

“Eds,” Richie exhales, understanding. His hot breath intermixes with Eddie’s in the small space between them. “Let me help.”

“I just want to take care of you-” Eddie says weakly, desperately, voice jumping an octave. He sucks in a sharp breath, pawing helplessly at Richie’s back as he grinds forward again. “ _Wanna be good for you-_ ”

“Oh baby, you already are,” Richie half-smiles, tilting his love’s chin upwards with a bent knuckle. He slots their lips together, sliding his tongue along Eddie’s and eliciting an eager shiver. A thrust of Richie’s hips, a squeeze of his waist. The momentum they’d lost since entering the bedroom quickly stirs and starts to build again. “Don’t you see it?”

Eddie opens his mouth, but no words follow. He shakes his head. 

“Then I want you to show me, Eddie.” 

Their eyes lock, Richie’s stare adamant and unblinking. He spreads his fingers wide, drags them through Eddie’s hair as he maintains the painfully slow movements of his hips. Almost like he’s dragging it out on purpose. 

“Show me how you’d take care of me,” Richie all but whispers in a feather-light order, “So you can see it, too.”

A vigorous series of nods. “ _Please_ -”

“Tell me what you need, Eds,” Richie breathes, hissing when Eddie’s hand shoots down to palm him through his sweatpants as he had before. 

_Too vague._

“I-” Eddie huffs, loud and harsh, mind still racing as he desperately clings to the sound of Richie’s voice like an anchor. “Rich, I-”

“Hey, no, it’s okay,” Richie adds quickly, raking his hands through Eddie’s hair once more. He can’t stop himself from bucking forward into the man’s firm touch, pulling him close. “I know you’ve got me, Eds, I trust you,” He murmurs, “But remember I’ve got you, too. You can let go, you don’t need to worry anymore. Just let go, baby.”

A trusting nod, followed by a lustful kiss. 

Eddie listens to his boyfriend’s words despite the pooling instincts in his gut, ones that beg him to be alert and on edge. He exhales. Slow, heavy, and filled with an easing tension. Time finally slows again, allowing Eddie to dwell in every moment for just a bit longer. The thoughts leave his mind like autumn leaves in the wind, one at a time and drifting soundlessly. 

Eddie lets it carry him, going pliant.

“That’s it, Eddie,” Richie smiles into a soft kiss, caressing the man’s face with both placed firmly on either side, “Now tell me how you want me.”

“Bed,” Eddie rasps, his breaths quickening as the pair pushes and pulls against each other with growing intensity. “On your knees?”

“Yessir.” A second wink.

Richie turns, spinning on his heels, hand gently clasping Eddie’s wrist to pull him along. They stumble, laughing, climbing up onto the covers, planting playful kisses every step of the way. Eddie’s never smiled this much with anyone else. 

_Better_ , Eddie thinks, heart bursting with love for the man who found a way to take the pressure of moving things along off his shoulders while still allowing him the freedom to choose what’s next. _So much better._

Richie leans to snatch something from the nightstand and kneels as instructed, waiting patiently for Eddie to slip out of his pants and toss them on the floor. The air seems to still once Eddie kneels to face him, eyes locked. Then, an adoring smile that nearly knocks the air from Eddie’s lungs. 

“I love you,” Eddie says, enamored. 

A soft kiss.

“I love you, too.” Richie’s voice is a whisper, gentle breaths on Eddie’s cheeks that make him sigh. 

Eddie runs his hands along Richie’s torso, touching every inch he can reach. It doesn’t take long to maneuver behind the taller man, closing in flush against his back. 

He’s warm, all the more grounding. 

“What next, baby?” Richie asks, his question cutting off when Eddie wastes no time snaking his hands around towards Richie’s front. He smiles into Richie’s shoulder, dragging curved fingers through the hair leading down his chest and stomach. A visible shudder follows, deep and hanging breaths. “ _Fuck-_ ”

Another pleased smile flashes on Eddie’s face, concealed from where he buries it in his lover’s neck. Then, a few firm strokes of Richie’s erection through the thin fabric that elicit a sharp gasp. Words are difficult, thoughts are blurred, and Eddie struggles for a moment before he manages to force out a low and distant _Off_. 

Eddie haphazardly paws at the hem of Richie’s boxers, an annoyed grunt falling from his mouth when he fails to pull them down from this angle. Richie’s shoulders bounce with a warm, amused laugh that fills the room. “Hold on— I’ve got it, Eds, here.”

They fumble, shifting just enough for Richie to slide the garments off and fling them onto the floor. A pair of panting breaths, a moment to settle. 

Then, time races. 

Eddie stirs from behind, grasping Richie in his hand before he can even compute what he’s doing. But then, it hits. A wild twitch of Richie’s hips, a visible shudder down past his waist, a choked gasp of pleasure. Richie throws his head back until his hair brushes along Eddie’s shoulder.

“Fucking shit-” Richie curses with another sharp buck forward, hands flailing at his sides until he manages to grasp at Eddie’s thighs behind him. Eddie jumps when he feels the two large hands squeeze down, nails pressing into his skin. “ _Eddie_ -”

Closing his hand a bit tighter, Eddie gets a better feel as he slowly drags his hand along Richie’s hard length or, in other words, the first dick he’s ever touched besides his own. Though the familiar angle of approach he’d chosen definitely helps, it’s a strange sensation that quickly becomes instinctual. Something familiar yet unexplored. Eddie grows to love it within minutes, his hand adopting a natural rhythm in tune with the sounds it draws from Richie. 

And not to mention the number of big dick jokes Richie made over the years that are suddenly proven to be very true. Eddie swallows down a moan at the feel of it, heavy and straining in his hand. 

“Rich,” Eddie huffs, face still pressed against the hot skin of Richie’s shoulder. He keeps his free hand wrapped securely around Richie’s stomach from behind, rubbing small circles with his fingers. “You sound so good.”

A strained laugh, cut short by a gasp. 

“‘Cause of you, baby,” Richie pants loudly, “Y’make me feel this good-”

Eddie smiles to himself, heart fluttering, encouraged. 

He abruptly stops, however, upon spotting what Richie quietly snatched from his nightstand sitting atop the bed. Another rush of relief washes over Eddie when he sees it’s a bottle of lube, overly-thankful for one less thing to worry about. “Hey,” He says, angling his chin in such a way for Richie to sense where he’s looking, “Gimme.”

It takes a few moments for Richie to piece together what Eddie’s asking for. A moment’s hesitation, followed by a breathy chuckle and slight shift atop the bed. Richie grabs the lube with a verbal _Yoink!_ and passes it off to Eddie, who rolls his eyes.

Eddie’s playfully annoyed expression, however, is replaced by a lust-filled frown when removes his hands and Richie full-on _whimpers_. Heart pounding, its thrums becoming less anxious and more eager, Eddie uncaps the bottle and pours a generous amount of lube in his palm. He takes Richie back in hand in record time once he does his best to warm it, pumping his wrist with that same, dragging rhythm that has Richie out-of-breath. 

A light tug of Eddie’s teeth on bare skin, a low moan that builds into a muffled cry.

“Rich?” Eddie asks with noticeable hesitance, not stopping his movements. 

“Eddie, baby-” Stuttering a breath, Richie lets out a mix between a laugh and a gasp. He gives a firm squeeze to Eddie’s upper thighs, rubbing deep with his thumbs in hopes of keeping Eddie’s mind from racing too far ahead. “Fuck, feels so good— _want more_ -”

“You do?” Eddie’s heart jumps. 

Or maybe— okay, maybe that was his dick. 

“ _Yes_ , Eds— doing so well-” Richie says, words ending with a hiss, as Eddie moves in even closer behind him. Eddie’s almost certain the man can feel his erection pressing up against his backside, unable to keep himself from shuddering at the thought. “You’re being so good for me-”

This time, it’s definitely Eddie’s heart that leaps.

“Yeah?”

“ _Fuck_ , yes, Eddie.” Richie’s breaths come in weighted heaves, barely able to keep up with Eddie’s controlled, purposeful pace; A rhythm that's closer to the slower side. The sounds of the room are obscene, frantic gasps and the slick sounds of lube on skin that, for some reason, makes Eddie burn with desire. He drinks it all up with haste, instantly exhilarated by Richie’s words. 

“Doing such a good job,” Richie continues, voice dry and cracking as a thin layer of sweat coats his bare skin, “Taking such good care of me, baby, fuck— _love you so much_ -”

Richie knows _exactly_ what he’s fucking doing.

And it’s working. 

The tickling warmth that’d settled in Eddie’s stomach, tucked away by fear, suddenly stirs. It ignites, burns, and spreads all in an instant. Consuming, overwhelming. A spark that aches the more Eddie holds back. Alleviated only by the sounds of growing pleasure in Richie’s voice and the friction against his neglected erection when his hips twitch forwards.

“Y’look after me so well, feels fucking amazing-”

A hot, stuttering breath falls from Eddie’s mouth; He feels his confidence grow with every broken sound he hears. Jerking Richie firmly, but not fast or hard enough to send him over the edge, Eddie basks in the notion.

So maybe Eddie _is_ a bit of a tease.

He slides his free hand up without a thought. Tweaks a nipple, licks a wet trail along the neck, grinds forward again and again as bursts of pleasure swell from his abdomen.

“ _Oh, Eddie_ — baby, _fuck_ , you’re a fucking _dream_ -”

Then, something that catches Eddie off-guard. 

Blurring eyes, a clenching throat. 

“ _Rich-_ ” Eddie strains out, eyes scrunched shut and face buried in his love’s neck, “Love you-”

“Fuck, I love you, too— love your hands, your arms, just, _fuck_ — just _all_ of you, darling, _so fucking perfect_ , wanna feel _all of you_ —”

Eddie clings to the sound, even more desperate than before, and lets himself become lost in a sea of words he knows he can trust. Silent whispers, strained curses, outpours of love. They all mix in Eddie’s mind, the world gradually fogging around him. It’s blurred, but still present. Just to the point where Eddie feels like he’s drifting, near-weightless.

“— fucking serious, Eds, you’re— _shit, just like that, baby_ — this is already so much better than I’ve ever dreamed-”

Swallowing to stifle a whine, mouth dry, Eddie pants, “Dreamed about me?”

“— Y’know I did.”

“I thought about you, too,” Eddie huffs without a moment’s pause, taken aback by his own surge of confidence. His voice feels distant as he speaks, like it's far away and out of grasp, but the sensation is pleasant. Calming, even. “Told you about it when you couldn’t talk, remember?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Richie practically hisses, “Yes, I remember-”

“I-” Eddie cuts off, faltering, a short-lived wave of nerves washing over him. 

A pause, Richie quick to understand. “I wanna hear it, Eddie, you never told me what you thought about, _please_ , wanna know what you did-”

Misshapen pieces fall back into place.

Clear again.

“I touched myself thinking about you.”

“ _Fuck_ -”

Eddie’s thrusts against Richie jump to match the speed of his wrist. The man between them melts at the sensation, dick throbbing in his boyfriend’s hand at the words.

“Sat just like this on my bed, pretending my hand was yours.” An urgent momentum like no other cascades in Eddie’s chest, the words now falling from his mouth breathy and frantic. He speaks like he couldn’t even stop if he tried to. “I started slow. Built up to it like we are now. I even left my door unlocked, you could’ve found me like that, Rich-” 

“...What the fuck.”

Eddie speaks on, loud exhales between the short details. He draws the reassurance to continue when Richie’s hips stutter, thrusts growing uneven. 

“That’s the night I realized that, Richie— that deep down, I _wanted_ you to find me.” Eddie cuts off, moan building in his throat, but he shoves it aside. “Wanted you to see what you do to me.” 

“ _Eddie, what the fuck_ -“ 

“Richie,” Eddie gasps, slipping from the dream-like state he longed to return to, willing Richie to take point again, “Tell me what you’d do, if you found me like that.”

“Fucking _shit_ , Eds, so many things.” Richie’s hips slow to a deeper, stronger thrust as he contemplates, putting some very serious thought into it. Adjusting to the change of pace, Eddie waits for an answer by tracing his tongue along the man’s shoulder and neck. “I’d wanna tell you to keep going, then stand back and watch you. Stay there until you’re close. Then get my hands on you, all over you, everywhere _except_ where you need it most-”

“You wouldn’t touch me?” Eddie asks, cheeks flushing with embarrassment over the whine of sadness in his voice. He ruts up harder against Richie when the man chuckles at the sound, as if to emphasize what he’d be missing out on. 

“That’s, _fuck, Eds_ — that’s what my mouth is for, baby,” Richie counters, and Eddie doesn’t need to see his face to know he’s smirking. 

“ _Oh_.”

“Would you want that?” 

_Yes_ , Eddie nearly screams in his mind, _Yes, yes, yes, yes._ All that comes out, however, is a hiss through clenched teeth and a furious set of nods. 

“Fuck, yes,” Richie huffs, feeling Eddie’s head shift up and down as he slumps and nods against his bare back. “Eddie, I— fuck, _you feel so good_ — I want, I-“

A burst of pleasure, electric and livening, jolts from Eddie’s groin up to his stomach. Then, a familiar building pressure. He wills it away and ignores the need to find release, however, in favor of focusing on Richie. Eddie comes down a bit, more alert and completely aware of what Richie is trying to say. 

“Eddie, you’re so good to me, I want to-“

A heated smirk on Eddie’s lips, flush against Richie’s neck that tickles in just the right way. 

“You want to what, Rich? You wanna fuck me?” 

...Shit, Kaspbrak.

“ _Eddie_ -“ Richie gasps with a near-shout, hips bucking forward with such force they both falter on their knees. “Yes, _yes_ , but, shit— still want you to fuck me too, either one, whatever you want, Eddie, _fuck_ -“

“Then do it.” 

...What the _fuck_ , Kaspbrak.

“Wh-“ Richie startles, snatching the wrist of the hand Eddie has wrapped around his dick. They pause; Richie whimpers at the abrupt halt, takes a breath. “I can’t, Eds— m’too close.”

“No shit, Richie,” Eddie huffs, frustrated with his mind’s refusal to form coherent sentences, “That’s not what I— I just meant— here.”

Eddie retracts himself, body moving faster than thoughts, settling on his knees with his back towards Richie. The bed shifts as Richie turns to face him, a choked breath slipping from his mouth when Eddie bends forward onto his elbows and presses his thighs together tightly. “Just-“ He pants impatiently, reaching back to rub a flat hand between his upper thighs to convey the words he can’t form, “-Like this.” 

One long beat of silence, then another. 

“Eddie are you serious.”

“Yes.”

“Not too much?”

“Twenty minutes ago, yeah...” Eddie huffs, too worked up to sit still. He flips back around and lays on his side to meet Richie’s eyes. “Not anymore.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Richie curses, eyes squeezed shut as he stops and forces himself to take one deep breath in, then one exhale out. One hand pinches the bridge of his nose while the other grips tightly at the base of his dick, willing himself not to come yet. “Okay,” He breathes, coming down, eyes fluttering open, “Okay, I need more lube-“

Eddie watches him grab the bottle, patience waning, before Richie’s eyes go wide. He’s frozen now, kneeling on the covers as he stares down at something below Eddie’s gaze. 

A brief expression of perplexion, vanishing instantly once Eddie spots the dark, wet patch of fabric on the front of his own boxer-briefs, probably made even larger from rubbing up so intently against Richie. Eddie’s stomach jumps in surprise as he stares. 

When the actual _fuck-_

“Eddie,” Richie says in a voice so low and guttural it almost resembles a _growl_ , not taking his eyes off of the garments, “Did you...”

Blinking, Eddie inhales deeply as Richie’s unfinished question suddenly pieces together in his mind. “No, I didn’t-”

“You _didn’t_?”

“Shut up,” Eddie groans as he flushes an even deeper red, body twitching with a strong wave of desire over the fact that he’d gotten wet enough for his boyfriend to think he already finished. “Don’t make fun of me, jackass!”

“I’m fucking _not_ , Eds, holy shit-“ Richie falters, hips stuttering once but failing to find the friction he seeks. A pause, heated and contemplating. Then, a heavy thud on the bed as Richie lets himself fall forward against it. “Fuck, m’sorry, I-“ Richie shakes his head, eyes locked on Eddie’s crotch, trying to clear his sudden haze, “I gotta just-“ 

Richie leans down and mouths at Eddie through the fabric, lapping at the dampened spot so that it grows in size beneath his tongue. 

“Oh, _fuck-_ ” 

The barrier between them, though thin, threatens to drive Eddie to his breaking point. Or maybe he’s already there. Fuck, he’s _been_ there. He bucks his hips up on instinct, sending tingling waves of pleasure trickling up Eddie’s abdomen in waves with every press of Richie’s tongue. 

“Rich-“ 

A strong heat envelops Eddie and spreads up and outward, and he’s vaguely aware of his surroundings beyond the cloud of fog engulfing his mind. The snap of a bottle opening. Richie shifting a lube-covered hand down towards his dick, beyond where Eddie can see. A whistling, winter wind as it strikes the frosted windows. “Richie-“

The man ignores Eddie. Or perhaps he doesn’t even hear him, too absorbed in this new task to acknowledge anything else around him. 

Eddie doesn’t blame him; He wonders if it’s strange to think it’s a bit endearing that Richie is staving off his orgasm yet again, just so he can get his mouth on Eddie.

“Oh my god. _Richard_.” Eddie tries again to get his attention, voice louder now. A hand rakes through curly brown hair and elicits a gasp when they close to form a tight fist. But then, another voice in the back of his mind, an anxious twist in his stomach. “Wait-”

Richie glances up, mouth wet and hanging open. 

“Huh-” 

Breathless, distant.

A soft and amused chuckle. 

“Focus, sweetheart,” Eddie adds sweetly before his expression falters by a small fraction. Another humiliating jolt of nerves that Eddie knows he shouldn’t need to feel, yet he does anyways. “And you shouldn’t— I know we don’t, but— we haven’t gotten our results back yet.”

“Shit, right-”

“Sorry,” Eddie utters shyly, shrinking into himself.

“ _No_ , no,” Richie says quickly, expression softening, “You’re right.”

Eddie’s heart swells in his chest as he’s reminded how Richie will always do whatever makes him most comfortable. He sits up, not wanting to lose their momentum, before flipping to settle back on his knees. Holds his breath, turns his head to the small bout of nervousness creeping up inside him, slides his underwear down to toss them off the bed, bends over onto his elbows. “Need you to-”

“Fuck, _fuck_ , sorry, that’s right— shit, you’re so fucking gorgeous, Eds, okay, just lemme-”

Warm fingertips, still coated a thin layer of excess lube, ghost over Eddie’s waist. A shiver of anticipation comes next. Heavy pants that fill the silence, a nudge against the back of Eddie’s thighs followed by the slide of Richie’s dick between them. A low grunt. Eddie jumps at first, caught off-guard by the feeling unfamiliar, until his thighs clench on instinct and Richie makes one of the most beautiful sounds he’s ever heard.

And Eddie wants to listen forever. 

Richie squeezes tightly at his waist, panting. “Eddie, can I-”

Eddie moves first, drawing out that same sweet moan that makes him tremble with excitement. He pushes back, alternating between tightening and relaxing his thighs in a way that’s so second-nature it’s almost startling. But Richie keeps Eddie focused on him, their movements, the closeness of it all. 

“ _Oh_ , fuck,” Richie huffs, hips snapping forward at a quickening pace, his movements short but forceful and perfectly in-sync with Eddie’s. “Th— This won’t take long, _shit_ -”

Something new unfurls in Eddie’s chest, a sensual warmth derived from the want— the _need_ to bring Richie over the edge. “Close?”

From behind, a frantic whimper between clenched teeth as Richie thrusts harder against Eddie. The angle isn’t perfect; Richie has to spread his legs to get low enough. But they’re both too caught up in the moment to really give a shit.

Claps of skin on skin bounce off the walls and mix with the wet, slathering sounds of lube that cover Eddie’s inner thighs. It shouldn’t be appealing in any sense, Eddie’s mind concludes, yet he finds himself basking in the noise like the heat of a summer sun. It’s messy and haphazard and fiery and desperate, and it’s really, _really_ doing it for him. 

Heat builds, thighs clench tighter. 

A loud, whining moan rings through the room.

“Feel good?” Eddie asks, eyes closed and caught up in the sounds.

“Eddie, I-” Richie pants, grip tightening, rhythm faltering, head most likely spinning just as much as Eddie’s, “Feels so fucking good, baby-”

“Yeah?”

“You’re amazing,” Richie says, and Eddie knows he’s smiling again, “You’re so— _fuck_ , you take— _take such good care of me, baby_ -”

Eddie’s hanging mouth forms a partial smile. “Love taking care of you-”

“ _Fuck_ , yes Eds, you’re so good-” Richie gasps, frantic yet impassioned, “Love you so much, baby, fuck— _can’t believe you’re mine_ -” 

“Of course I am—” Eddie answers with a pant, open mouth forming a partial smile. The words fall from his mouth without a second thought, smooth as skin and plainly concrete. “— _Always was_.”

That’s all it takes. 

Richie goes stiff, crying out between dispersed gasps of his love’s name, orgasm washing over as he comes between Eddie’s thighs. Sounds that Eddie’s never heard before fall from his lips and, as Richie’s thrusts grow weaker, he makes a mental note. 

Whenever they go all the way, and however they do it, Eddie wants to be able to see his face. 

Not only to hear Richie, but to _watch_ him fall apart before him. It’s difficult to ignore the pulsing wave of desire that crashes through Eddie at the thought, his untouched erection throbbing and only adding to the mess Richie left on the blankets beneath him. 

Then, Richie stills, forehead falling against Eddie’s back to catch his breath before pulling away.

“Holy fucking shit, Eddie.”

Eddie laughs, flipping over. 

He’s too late to remember the messy state of the comforter, grimacing when he feels the cooling, sticky sensation of Richie’s cum on his backside. Richie hovers above him, red-faced and sweating, _all the more beautiful_ , as he quickly puts two and two together and breaks into a fit of cackles. Eddie rolls his eyes, but his expression never falters. 

“Eddie, _baby_ -” Richie says, out-of-breath, inching closer to kneel directly above his boyfriend, “Where the _fuck_ did that come from-”

“I don’t know,” Eddie shakes his head and weakly shrugs both shoulders. Laughs again, warm and loving. Stares up at Richie like he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him. 

It’s easy when he doesn’t have to pretend.

“Babe.” Richie doesn’t flinch when Eddie pulls off his glasses, wipes away the fog and smears on his bedsheets, and places them back on his face. “I think I just came my brains out, I think it’s _gone_ -”

“Can’t lose what you never had, dear.”

“Heh,” Richie chuckles, eyes half-lidded, visibly exhausted and mind very clearly still caught in the clouds, “You’re funny.”

“And you’re cute.”

“Takes one to know one,” Richie shoots back, gently poking the tip of Eddie’s nose with a pointed finger. He takes in the sight of the man sprawled out below him, flushed and keyed up. “But holy shit Eds, I…fuck, that was… _fuck_...”

“Speechless, huh? That’s a first.” 

Richie gawks back at Eddie’s teasing remark, joining in his laughter. The movement, however, sends dull ache from Eddie’s groin to his stomach as he recalls the painfully hard erection straining between them. Eddie swallows, his cheeks flushing a deep red when Richie suddenly looks down to eye it with hunger. “Eager, huh?” 

“What do you fucking think, Rich?!”

“I think,” Richie says, his voice suddenly hushed as he sinks down between Eddie’s open legs and meets his gaze, “That you had your fun with me, but now it’s _my_ turn to do the same with you.”

Eddie blinks.

“And here you are calling _me_ beautiful,” Richie nearly whispers, taking a hand to run from the man’s thigh to his knee. “You really are a fucking dream, Eds.” 

Eddie spasms, hips jerking off the bed, when Richie takes him in hand and strokes. It’s painfully slow, _torturous_ even, but more than enough after going untouched for so long. 

_Not true_ , Eddie thinks, certain, _Never enough._

“Fucking _look_ at you,” Richie remarks with another slow stroke up his dick, eyes wide with adrenaline as he tries to catch his breath. Eddie watches him run a thumb over the slit and marvel in disbelief, pre-cum going with it when he pulls back. A frown appears when Richie can’t catch what Eddie mumbles under his breath. “What’d you say, Eds?”

Eddie exhales sharply, eyes shut, before he peers back down at Richie and utters, “Only happens with you.”

A long second passes, then another.

“...This?” Richie asks, gaze unmoving as he repeats an identical movement of his thumb over the head of Eddie’s dick. The man jumps under Richie’s hold, frantically grasping for something to ground himself with. He settles on Richie’s shoulders, squeezing tightly as an unfamiliar, heated pleasure rips through him. “I’m the only one who’s ever made you like this?” 

“ _Uh_ -” Eddie huffs, jaw dropped as he grinds hard into Richie’s touch, “Uh-huh-”

“Only me?”

“Fuck, _yes_ , only you, sweetheart,” Eddie says, panting again and feeling more flushed than he did before. “Nobody else, Rich. Just you...”

“Fuck… _Eddie_...”

Eddie’s heart jumps in his chest when he hears Richie say his name like that. Like there’s a deep tension that clenches his throat in a way that must sting. A voice, breaking and deep, that contains a palpable sense of restraint intermixed with desire. One only felt by those who know what it’s like to live a life without real love. 

The rawness of its urgency sends shivers along the paths that Richie traces with his fingers, followed by his tongue. 

Without stopping the measured movements of his hand, Richie delves down and smears his tongue along his boyfriend’s thighs. Eddie’s legs shoot open completely on reflex, trying to push himself towards Richie as much as he physically can. “Rich,” Eddie half-whines, brows furrowed as he watches Richie eagerly lap at the mess he’d left there, “Richie, what are you— that’s your own— that’s fucking _gross_ , dude-”

The man’s lips curve into a smile against his thigh. “You know what I’m gonna say, _dude_.” 

Eddie huffs in reply. 

Richie dives lower, hands gripped securely around either of Eddie’s legs, and licks a hot, wet trail upwards from his thighs. He takes his time working his way towards Eddie's hips, stopping every so often to nibble, bite, and peck. Richie leaves a prominent trail in his wake consisting of red marks and patches of wet hair that make Eddie dizzy when spots them. 

“You love it,” Richie finally says, sporting a shit-eating grin when he quickly peers up to meet Eddie’s heated gaze. Keeping their eyes locked, Richie swipes his tongue along Eddie’s other thigh and gently bites, chuckling when Eddie spasms at the contact. “You love being this _messy_.”

“F-fuck you.” 

A provoking snicker. 

“I don’t think you’d last long enough for that, babe.” 

An infuriating wink.

“ _Shut the fuck up_ -“

Richie stills, leans in close, his nose brushing up along Eddie’s erection. It’s aching now, and Eddie’s thoughts blur into that same hazy fog when he feels Richie’s hot breaths against it. 

“Eddie, my love,” Richie whispers, low and lustful, lips tracing along Eddie’s shaft as he speaks, “There’s a very easy way to shut me up, if that’s what you want.” 

The vibrations of Richie’s voice shoot through Eddie, up and out. A moan builds in this throat, but Eddie manages to stifle it. He bites his lip. “You have no fucking clue how much I want that.”

A devilish grin flashes on Richie’s face.

“Actually,” He counters, tone blatantly teasing. Richie shifts to place a feather-light kiss on the V of his crotch and takes Eddie back in hand, “I think I know _exactly_ how much you want it.”

Everywhere they touch, electric.

A sharp inhale.

“You’re so sensitive, baby,” Richie exhales between his light nips of Eddie’s skin, and Eddie feels the man’s lips shift into another grin, “You can’t keep still.”

Richie removes his hand, hovers an open palm beside Eddie’s length. 

“Rich,” Eddie nearly sobs, propping himself up a bit higher on his elbows to see his love more clearly. His heart pounds so loudly in his chest he can barely hear the words he speaks. “ _Richie_ -”

“Hm?”

“Please, Richie,” Eddie forces out, fists gripping the ruffled sheets as a means to ground him to reality. The pangs of lust flood his body and make him flush with heat. “Rich, I— _Oh, sweetheart_ — I need you, Richie _please, please, please, I_ -”

Eddie bites his lip, hard.

A sudden silence falls between them.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” Eddie blinks, mind too hazy to think far beyond the closeness of Richie’s hand to where he _needs_ it to be.

Richie pauses, searching for the right words. “You...you’re _holding back_.”

No response.

“You keep doing it,” Richie notes, a subtle frown barely noticeable on his flushed face, “You’re biting your lip like you don’t want me to hear you.”

Fuck.

Eddie curses inwardly, a rush of shameful anger rolling through him and crashing like rough ocean waves. A dim reminder of what his previous sexual partners expected of him in bed. Nothing more than a list of rules that held him back, kept him quiet, and blinded him from what sex is _supposed_ to feel like with someone you love.

“Eddie, baby.” Richie’s voice is lower now, deep rumbles from the back of his throat. He speaks fervently, yet with an overall sense of calm that nestles Eddie like a warm caress. “You took such good care of me, made me feel so fucking incredible.”

Staring back with a newfound interest, Eddie’s eyes widen. 

“But Eds, you gotta let me take care of you, too,” Richie continues, both voice and expression equally warm. The man shifts on the bed; Eddie realizes he’d moved to grab a condom when he hears the sound of tearing plastic. “I wanna make you feel good, wanna hear every sound you make.”

“...Oh.”

“You gotta let go, Eds, just like you did before.” His voice is light, like a gentle breeze that tickles summer wind chimes and urges them to sing. A subtle nudge that’s not driving, but guiding. And a voice Eddie finds himself latching onto in seconds as the rest of the room is lost to the chilling wind. 

A hesitant nod.

Richie sees it, smiles softly.

“You’re safe with me, Eddie, I’ve got you,” Richie lulls as he wills the man to relax. The nails of one hand circle along Eddie’s skin in the most ginger sets of drags, drawing paths against the grain of his leg hair. The other hand works to gradually slip the condom onto Eddie. “Wanna hear you so bad— wanna see how you sound when you’re falling apart for me— no need to hold it all in when you’re with me, darling. Just let go for me.”

“Okay,” Eddie utters quietly, almost absently. He lets his mouth fall open a bit, shivering. “I’m sorry, I-”

Eddie cuts off, fumbling when Richie tightens his grip and takes him into his mouth. It builds in Eddie’s throat; He can feel it pooling there. That instinctive urge to stifle his cry before it breaches the surface, one that clenches his throat and seals his lips in a tight line. But this time, for the _first_ time, Eddie actively fights it. 

Richie sinks down lower, taking more of him into his mouth.

Eddie feels catanotic. 

He’s writhing, near-trembling, under a friction of rough skin and warmth of his kiss-swollen lips. Fragile whimpers slip between Eddie’s clenched teeth and draw out a gasp. Eddie startles himself with the noise, barely recognizing the sound as something that came from his mouth. 

And yet, it also thrills him. 

Suddenly, all Eddie wants is to hear what other sounds he’s capable of making, which ones Richie can coax out of him. It’s another side of Eddie, new and unexplored, that only Richie will ever get to see. It’s for him and him alone. Something else to share that nobody else will have the privilege of witnessing. 

“ _Rich_ , I-” Eddie’s voice cuts off in a high-pitched gasp.

Another new yet enticing sound. 

“Rich, _oh shit_ -” Eddie startles when Richie suddenly pulls off, leaving just enough room for him to speak, but still close enough that Eddie can feel every hot breath. Eyes squeezed shut, Eddie shakes his head back-and-forth as his hips buck up in search of the heat he’d lost. “Richie, I— I can’t, Rich, _please_ , I need you-”

“There you go, baby,” Richie murmurs encouragingly, smirking proudly. He stares up at Eddie with a mix between delight and awe, an overly-sweet expression. “Just like that.” 

“I love you,” Eddie breathes, tone impatient, but also heartfelt and laced with flame, “Want to feel you-”

Something glistens in Richie’s eyes, a delicate look of understanding that makes Eddie’s heart jump, followed by an upturn of eyebrows and large, closed-mouth smile. A ghost of thumbs as they trace along Eddie’s hips. “I love you, too.”

“Little gay of you-”

“I’d hope it’s more than just a _little_ gay, babe.”

“Takes one to know one,” Eddie grins, giving Richie’s shoulders a light tap, “And I really do love you, sweetheart, but I’ll move out and take Leia with me if you don’t put your mouth back on my dick _right this fucking second_.” 

A loud cackle.

“Yessir,” Richie winks. 

He laughs adoringly as he pats the man’s knee, still eye-level with Eddie’s neglected erection. It throbs under his steady gaze, Richie’s playful grin only growing as he takes Eddie in his hand and runs his tongue up his length. Then, Richie returns to the task at hand with ease, basking in the beautiful strings of whimpers it draws out from his lover. 

Eddie spasms under the touch, mouth open and head flying back against the bed, feeling incredibly oversensitive from holding off as long as he did. But fuck, it’s worth the wait. The initial floods of anticipation begin to ebb, granting Eddie enough clarity to sit up a bit. He peers down just as Richie finishes adjusting his angle. Mouth closing, sinking down, Richie sucks and hollows his cheeks.

Fuck.

“Holy shit, _Richie_ , what the _fuck_ -“ 

A never-ending string of frantic words flows from Eddie’s mouth, and Richie takes it as a sign to continue. He opens his jaw wider and takes more of Eddie into his mouth. Eyes flicking up to meet Eddie’s, Richie presses his tongue forwards and elicits a deep, satisfied groan. 

“Oh shit, _shit_ -” 

Richie moves the hand at the base of Eddie’s dick down low, loosely cupping his balls and allowing more room for his mouth. Eddie huffs, squirming beneath his touch, and feels an astonishingly strong heat begin to coil within him. 

“Rich, you-“ Eddie’s voice is backed with passion and arousal, escaping his throat in the form of an avid whine. He feels himself slipping away again, lost in a sea of thoughts that vanish to smoke as he reaches out to grasp them. 

For a moment, it seems, he’s simply flying. 

Weightless. 

“Your fucking _mouth_ , feels so good, Rich-“

A hum in response, low and drawn-out. 

As if he could sense the shift in Eddie’s state of mind, Richie shifts to balance his weight on a single arm. In the same instant, a hand snakes across the bed and glides directly atop Eddie’s. They clasp hands. Fingers intertwine. An anchor grounding them both. Eddie goes pliant, never feeling more secure while in a state as vulnerable as this. 

Then, he lets go, fully relaxed and open in a way he didn’t even know was tangible.

“If I’d known this is how I could shut you up,” Eddie sighs heavily, a loose smile appearing on his face, “Would’ve done this _weeks_ ago-“

Richie jerks, pulls off, sits back. 

“Eddie,” He huffs a chuckle, patting the man’s thigh with a rough hand, “You _cannot_ make me laugh while I’m doing this.”

“Right, yeah.” A sheepish smile creeps its way onto Eddie’s face. “Sorry.”

“S’okay, Spaghetti,” Richie grins, giving Eddie’s thigh one final assuring squeeze before shifting back down. 

“Oh my god, do _not_ call me that while you’re sucking my dick.”

“But you both taste so good…”

“Fuck y— _Oh_ -”

Their eyes lock. And Richie, that fucker, grins playfully and presses his tongue to the slit before taking Eddie’s dick back into his mouth. Even through the condom, the waves of arousal surging up his body are more intense than anything he’s ever felt in bed.

Another burst of warmth pulses through Eddie and pools in his stomach, his chest, his crotch. He whines loudly and freely, relishing the notion that Richie _wants_ him to be expressive, to make noise, to not feel the need to restrain his reactions like he always had in the past. 

“Oh, shit,” Eddie spasms again once Richie starts moving, alternating between sucking and sliding his mouth along his length in a steady rhythm. “ _Richie_.”

Richie hums again, as if to ask what Eddie is trying to say. He glances up for a moment, eyebrows raised in question, before swallowing Eddie deeper into his mouth. 

The movements are so rough yet controlled, gentle yet frantic, that Eddie seems to slip away until he can only focus on the growing pulses of pleasure from Richie’s mouth engulfing him. And he lets it happen, finding comfort in the sensation as he tightens his hold on their still-tethered hands. 

“Richie, _sweetheart_ -” Eddie breathes with an intensifying sense of urgency that makes his thighs start to tremble. He peers down, eyes glistening, and moans like he was born to do it. The sound sends a shiver through Richie, and the man picks up his pace when he senses Eddie getting closer to the edge. 

It’s all so much. 

Far greater than anything Eddie’s ever felt in his life with someone else. And yet, even now, he craves _more_. His desire only builds within him, unrelenting. A _real_ love that makes Eddie want to beam and cry and shout and _live_. 

And suddenly, just like that, Eddie understands why he used to see sex as nothing but a chore.

How could he have thought otherwise without experiencing something as electrifying as this? As so goddamn _extraordinary_ as this?

Eddie wants it— he _needs_ it, now that he knows just how much he’s missed out on all these years. 

He wants it all at once, to be enveloped with a heat so powerful it takes him apart in seconds beneath Richie’s touch. To feel it build inside him so quickly he can’t keep it in. And yet, at the same time, Eddie wants it slow. Achingly slow so that every moment stretches to an hour, maybe two, allowing him plenty of time to drink up every last shiver of pleasure as Richie takes care of him. 

Body jerking when Richie gives a firm tug to his balls, Eddie’s thoughts fly back to reality. Shivering, his restraint slips and he sharply bucks his hips off the bed with another shuddering moan. 

“ _Fuck_ , sorry-“ Eddie curses, planting his hips back on the bed and sitting up to look down towards Richie, who still has Eddie in his mouth despite the pair of tears running down his face. “-Sorry, I’m sorry, I didn't mean to do that-“

Richie exhales deeply through his nose, giving another pat to Eddie’s hip as he pulls off and sits up. “No, no, no, Eds, it’s okay-“

“I was trying not to move,” Eddie goes on, embarrassment plain in his expression, “It just felt so fucking _good_ , Rich, I-“

“Hey, slow down,” Richie says as he wipes the tears away with a balled fist. He shifts his knees and takes Eddie’s straining erection back in hand, stroking at a teasingly slow pace as they speak. Eddie’s _close_ , but he wills himself to calm down at the prospect of what might happen next. 

Smiling when Eddie’s eyes fall shut and hips jerk forward into his touch, Richie continues. “Eddie I _want_ you to do that, you won’t hurt me, I promise.“

The words go straight to Eddie’s dick. 

Though the upward twitch of Eddie’s hips is subtle, it doesn’t go unnoticed by Richie, who smirks deviously and pulls his hand away. Eddie whimpers at the loss, falling forward a bit to grasp Richie’s shoulders. “Yeah?” Eddie asks, confirming, “You want that?”

“I’ll fucking beg if I have to, Eds.” 

“What if you need to stop? You can’t talk like that…” 

“How about I reach up and tap your arm three times?” 

“Okay,” Eddie nods frantically, that same dull ache from before resurfacing as his erection remains untouched, “Fuck, okay-“

Richie smiles, eager yet reassuring, as he takes Eddie by the hand and guides him off the bed. He leads Eddie to the edge, nudging him back against it before kneeling down on the floor. Eddie frowns, hesitating. Richie mirrors the expression until he watches Eddie turn to snatch a pillow off the bed and toss it to him.

“Thanks,” Richie replies, sporting a loving half-smile. He sticks the pillow beneath his knees and sits up straight, eliciting a sharp gasp when he reaches to give Eddie one controlled stroke. “Ready?” 

Eddie nods, eyes squeezed shut and both hands braced tightly on the bed’s edge. “Yeah.” 

“I’m gonna hold your hips down to help keep you still, alright?” Richie says, placing two warm hands on either side of the man’s lower waist. “You’re even squirmier than Leia after a nap when you’re all riled up like this.” 

“Okay,” Eddie stutters a laugh, smiling, “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be, it’s cute,” Richie replies by planting a light trail of kisses along Eddie’s shaft, smiling to himself when the man beneath him tries to jerk again at the contact. “Now _please_ fuck my face, baby.”

“ _Fuck_ -”

The next moments pass in a sudden, blurred flash.

A sharp gasp, an encouraging hum, a series exhales that try and fail to form words. Eddie’s suddenly very thankful to have the bed behind him, for his legs instantly go limp as Richie very gradually swallows him down until his nose is buried in curls of dark pubic hair. 

Eddie feels Richie’s grip on his waist tighten, willing him to hold still as he takes a moment to adjust. Barely breathing, he shudders where he lays sprawled against the bed’s edge. Then, a gentle squeeze to his sides, which is enough for Eddie to know it’s okay to move. But now that he has this newfound freedom, he remains where he stands. 

Richie, however, is quick to notice the apprehension. 

Eddie opens his mouth to speak, remaining silent when he feels a sudden chill at the spot where Richie’s hand once sat on his waist. With a caring touch, Richie takes Eddie’s hand in his and guides it towards his own head. A wordless, encouraging gesture for Eddie to grasp his hair. 

Eddie bites his lip. 

Seconds pass before he slowly does as instructed. Eddie startles, however, when Richie uses his other hand to carefully guide his hips forward. Then, he pushes Eddie back against the bed. They repeat the motion together, then once more. 

Time slows as their pace builds, a sensation nothing short of invigorating. 

“Rich, holy shit,” Eddie breathes as he slowly guides his hips, still hesitant, in a steady rock forward and back. His thighs start to tremble and his grip on Richie’s hair tightens, their rhythm restrained yet deliberate. And yet, he keeps it up, shivering when Richie exhales breaths of warm air through his nose and against Eddie’s skin. “ _Richie_ -“

Another hum builds in Richie’s throat, and this time, Eddie _feels_ it vibrate all the way up through his chest. 

And it’s fucking euphoric.

Eddie’s never lost himself in the waves of hot pleasure that jolt up his spine and draw out shivers. He’s never lost his awareness of the surroundings to the point which he instantly heeds all other senses and succumbs to touch and touch alone. He’s _never_ felt such a raw, unrivaled sexual need, one so strong it outweighs any other priority on his mind. 

Not until now, until Richie. 

“Oh, _huh_ — Rich,” Eddie exhales, his breaths growing frantic as he cautiously increases the pace of his shallow thrusts. Richie welcomes them gladly despite the tears that now stream down his flushed face. “Richie you— _oh shit_ — you feel so fucking amazing-“

Another noise builds in Richie’s throat, this one less like a hum and more of a moan. A noise that tells Eddie that Richie’s enjoying himself just as much as he is right now. Mouth falling open at the sensation, Eddie peers down and runs an open hand through Richie’s tangling hair. But what he isn’t prepared for is the sight of Richie staring back up at him, eyes glassy and lips sealed around his dick as he takes it all down his throat.

The next jolt that strikes Eddie’s abdomen is electric, pulsing so fervently through his body that it makes him light-headed. 

“ _Richie_ , sweetheart-“ Eddie starts, reaching out with a free hand to paw at one of Richie’s. He guides it to the bed where he interlaces their fingers, exactly like they had before. 

Richie gives his hand a loving squeeze. 

So caught up in the moment, Eddie hadn’t noticed the racing pounds of his own heart until now. Beats that make his entire being thud with a passion so fierce it feels like he’ll explode if he doesn’t get it all out now. That, or he’s seconds away from the best orgasm of his life. _Probably both_ , Eddie thinks to himself.

Eddie attempts to convey the feeling with words. They slur together, forced between loud breaths and sharp gasps, but Eddie doesn’t stop. 

Richie _needs_ to know.

“You’re so fucking _beautiful_ ,” Eddie breathes, as if awestruck. He knows Richie’s listening when he spots the man’s eyes go wide, staring up at him intently. “How the _fuck_ did I get so damn lucky? I look at you, Rich, and _fuck_ , I know that you see me. Like _really_ see me.” 

Richie huffs loudly through his nose, and Eddie isn’t sure if it’s a laugh or a cry.

Hard to tell with the stinging tears on Richie’s face.

“You just know, you always _know_ exactly what I need just from a single look at me,” Eddie continues, his strokes though Richie’s hair growing more tender as he feels the man start to melt beneath them. “I feel so damn _safe_ with you, sweetheart, I trust you— _fuck_ , I’ve never felt so cared for in my life.” 

Richie’s squeezes Eddie’s hand tight; A loud whimper builds in Richie’s throat.

“Richie, I-“ Eddie starts, barely able to string sentences together but determined to get the words out, “I didn’t know-“

Richie peers up, perplexed this time, and offers another squeeze of the hand as if asking what Eddie means. Eddie meets his gaze, moaning open-mouthed and messy as Richie presses his tongue up and drags it along his dick. His thighs are visibly shaking now and Richie plants a firm arm around Eddie to help hold him up. 

“I didn’t— _fuck, Richie, just like that_ — I didn’t know it,” Eddie continues, squeezing Richie’s hand even tighter basking in the sight of his cheeks hollowing out around him. “Richie, I— I d-didn’t— _I didn’t know it could feel this good_ -“

The words strike Richie right where it matters, evoking a bout of enthusiasm that’s near _ferocious._

As another crushing wave of heat engulfs him, Eddie spots Richie subtly shifting where he kneels. He moves his mouth to meet Eddie’s quick, shallow thrusts. Then, seemingly on a whim, Richie removes his hand from Eddie’s hip. A wordless act of trust that they won’t quicken their pace from what it is now. 

“Rich, I-“ Eddie’s voice is jumping in octave, throat clenching as he steadily fucks Richie’s mouth. More pleasure builds amidst the warmth pooling inside him. “It’s never felt like this, Richie, oh— _oh fuck_ — feels so fucking great, Rich-“

Richie huffs another loud breath of acknowledgement from his nose, not slowing his movements when he glides his free hand down to play and tug at his balls like he had on the bed. 

“You’re being so good for me, sweetheart, I— _fuck_ ,“ Eddie cuts off, suddenly willed to exchange his fast pace for a slower, more controlled thrust that lets him better see his love’s face. Taking the hand he had clenched to Richie’s hair, Eddie runs an open hand along the man’s forehead and down to loosely caress his face. “You’re so— _oh_ — so good at this, Rich,” Eddie breaths, desperate for release and voice cracking as his throat tightens up, “You’re taking it so well, just _look at you_ -“

Another whimper, this one louder and tight in Richie’s throat.

Riche takes a moment to adjust to the slower pace, visibly taken aback when he peers up through glassy eyes to see Eddie’s face just as tear-stricken as his. 

“Sweetheart, _oh Richie, yes_ — you take such good care of me-“ Eddie stutters as his hips begin to falter in their movements. Richie leans forward at the realization, gently nudging Eddie back until he’s leaning against the mattress. He takes over, bobbing his head in steady glides as Eddie finally falls apart beneath him. “You— _fuck, I’m close_ — Richie you always take good care of me, you’re so _good_ for me, _I love you_ -“

Richie presses forward and stays there, sucking hard.

“Oh— _fuck_ , sweetheart, I’m gonna come, _Rich_ -“ Eddie’s stomach clenches with a sudden jolt of anticipation when Richie flicks his gaze up to meet his. He squeezes their hands to the point that it almost hurts.

Every exhale is intermixed with a heavy, high-pitched moan that fills the room. Richie drinks it up, fondling Eddie with a free hand. Hot tears build up in Eddie’s eyes and cascade down his face as the dam inside him breaks, setting free a flood of an exhilarating warmth. 

“ _I love you so fucking much_ -“ Eddie nearly sobs, letting out a shout when he suddenly feels something pressing up between his legs. Jerking up at the touch, sensitive and startled, Eddie gazes down to realize Richie has a hand hooked beneath him. That’s when he feels a single finger start to rub slow and pressing circles, massaging his rim. 

If Richie’s mouth wasn’t already preoccupied, Eddie knows he’d be smirking.

One particularly firm rub is what finally sends Eddie over the edge as Richie tightens his lips and sucks again. “Fuck, fuck, _Richie, fuck, I_ — I’m gonna— _Richie_!”

Eddie spills into the condom, jaw dropped and head thrown back with a shameless cry. He’s left frozen, overwhelmed with immeasurable pleasure, holding onto the present by nothing but the feel of Richie’s hand in his own. The room spins and Eddie feels lighter than a cloud, drifting faster than the breeze that carries it.

Then, a sudden wave of tiredness, less of exhaustion and more of a comfortable, intoxicating warmth, washes over Eddie. He slowly comes down, throat dry and still breaths ragged, when he feels Richie shift his mouth on his dick. 

A hiss escapes from Eddie’s lips as the movements suddenly turn from pleasurable to oversensitive. Richie picks up on the hint and pulls off, wet mouth hanging open as he coughs and sucks in a few deep breaths. It slowly morphs into a smile, and from there, a scratchy laugh. 

Richie says something.

Eddie doesn’t hear it.

His boyfriend tries again, uttering something muffled, but it's still too distant for Eddie to make out. He’s vaguely aware of the condom being pulled off. Then, two hands on his thighs, rubbing up and down through the dark hair. Honing in on the warmth, the scratch, Eddie slowly pulls himself back to the present. “...Hmph-”

A chuckle.

“There you are, baby. That’s it.”

Eddie blinks, head still swimming with the lingering rush of his orgasm. He peers down to meet his lover’s exhilarated expression. “Hm?”

“Look at you,” Richie says, coughing again, as he eyes Eddie’s flushed, strung-out form in front of him. “You’re a fucking _mess_ for me-“ 

An annoyed huff, followed by a weak shove at Richie’s shoulder.

Another laugh. 

“Did you come your brains out, too? Cause it sure looks like you did.”

“Shut up,” Eddie exhales, dazed and voice slurred, “Your fault.”

“Oh yeah?” Richie smirks teasingly as he pats the side of his thighs with an open palm. “What did it for you?” 

“Hot.” 

“I’m hot?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What else?” Richie pushes, clearly enraptured in the foggy yet adorable state Eddie’s climax left him in. 

“Love you.” 

Expression softening, Richie smiles and gently gives another squeeze to his side. “I love you too, Eds.” 

“I love you,” Eddie repeats, their stares locked as Richie rises up. The man winces when he strains his knees to stand and leans against the bed beside Eddie. More tears begin to stream down Eddie’s cheeks once they’re face-to-face, but Richie is quick to wipe them away. 

With every swipe of Richie’s thumbs, the fog that clouds Eddie’s mind finally dissipates. 

“Never felt that good before,” Eddie adds, mind starting to clear, still panting, “I love you, love you so much-“

“Fuck, Eds, I love you, too,” Richie laughs, running a knuckle along one of his boyfriend’s flushed cheeks. 

Eddie’s eyes narrow at the sound. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Richie laughs again, glancing lovingly towards Eddie. He spots the last bits of haze gradually vanishing from Eddie’s eyes. “You turned so sappy after I sucked you off, it’s really fucking cute.” 

“Oh,” Eddie shakes his head, ridding it of the cloudy and hazy thoughts which flood it. He blinks, remembering the streaks of tears running down his cheeks. He wipes them away with a closed fist, finally feeling grounded again once Richie runs a splayed hand through his ruffled hair. “Fuck.”

Another soft, cracked chuckle from Richie fills the room before the pair meets eyes.

“Hi,” Richie says, low and gentle, before repeating the same gesture with his hand. 

“Hi,” Eddie replies. 

A wide smile blooms on his face, euphoric and bright enough to light the whole room. His heart leaps when Richie returns a goofy, lovestruck smile, the sight drawing out relaxed giggles from both of them. 

“Sweetheart,” Eddie nearly whispers, still leaning into Richie’s touch, “I was serious before. I really didn’t know it could feel like that, Rich…” 

Richie flashes a bittersweet half-smile. “Hope it was worth the wait, at least.” 

“Oh yeah,” Eddie chuckles, loud and compelling, as another tear slips and falls, “So worth it. Everything about you, Rich, you’re so fucking _worth it_. I love you.” 

Richie brushes the tear away with a knuckle, staring back like he has a million things he wants to say. Eddie sees them all as they flood his eyes and make them glisten beautifully, yet all that comes out is, “I love you, too.” 

Beaming, Richie pulls Eddie in for a kiss, locking their lips as they exhale a heavy, simultaneous sigh of content. 

“Wait,” Eddie says, abruptly pulling back, their lips parting with an audible smack, “You just had my dick in your mouth-“

“And you still haven’t brushed your teeth yet this morning, you gremlin,” Richie retorts with a playful smirk. 

Eddie pauses, computing, before a defeated smile breaks onto his face. “Yeah,” He chuckles, pulling Richie back in for another short kiss, “You got me there.” 

“So what’s your little Spaghetti brain thinking now?” Richie asks as he squints his eyes and pretends to read Eddie’s mind. “Let me guess, it’s put my sheets in the laundry and then go take a shower.” 

“And brush our teeth.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Richie chuckles, a wave of satisfied tiredness overcoming his face, “And go brush our teeth.” 

Eddie stands, legs still wobbly, not bothering to put his clothes back on as he collects Richie’s dirty blankets and hobbles towards the door. Peering back over his shoulder in the doorway, Eddie catches Richie openly gaping at his bare ass. He flashes an amused smirk. “Get the water warm, sweetheart, I’ll meet you in there.” 

Eddie turns and, as he walks down the hall towards the washer, stifles a laugh when he hears Richie frantically stumbling towards the bathroom. 

How the fuck did he get so lucky?

  


* * *

  


Water plummets from the soiled dishrag in Eddie’s hands, pattering along the kitchen sink’s stainless steel interior. He pops the stopper, abandons the rag, and watches the soap suds glisten as they’re swallowed by the drain with a loud gurgle. The pleasant scent of Ivory dish soap hangs in the air. 

Eddie steps back and admires his handiwork, nodding with satisfaction at the full rack of spotless dishes. 

Clean.

Just like the sheets and comforter from Richie’s bed, now replaced and tucked neatly around the mattress. Both of which are almost as clean as Eddie _feels_ after his surprisingly affectionate shower with Richie. 

Exhaling, Eddie closes his eyes and recollects.

He remembers standing, waiting for his self-doubt to rise back up in his chest and overwhelm him, only for it to never show its face. The fulfilling outpour of relief that followed once Eddie discovered this. Scalding water on his back. Steam hovering above. A sense of gratifying closeness to Richie despite the small, open space between them. 

Skin on skin.

Touches far more intimate than anything they’d done in bed.

Light traces of Richie’s hands over every inch of his body, gingerly washing him down with lavender soap. Curved fingers that rubbed at Eddie’s scalp, open palms that kept finding their way back to Eddie’s waist. Gentle, feather-light pecks on the top of Eddie’s head. The moment when they stood face-to-face as Richie reached down to wipe away the dried mess on Eddie’s thighs. 

A stream of hot water that engulfed him, followed by an unfamiliar but snug warmth in Eddie’s chest that burned like embers of a young flame. He welcomed it, becoming lost in the breaths of Richie’s hushed professions against his ear. 

Words that lingered in the air as Eddie crossed the bathroom’s threshold. Ones that left him feeling both self-assured and elated at the new depth of vulnerability he achieved with the person he cares for most.

Feeling loved.

Eddie flicks off the kitchen lights, striding down the hallway without a single glance back.

He grins.

  


* * *

  


“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing, Richie?”

Eddie stands, glaring, both hands on his hips.

“The fuck does it _look_ like I’m doing?!” Richie shoots a taunting grin over his shoulder and hoists the hand holding Leia up for emphasis. “I’m giving our daughter a bath!”

“In the _bathtub_?”

“A place where people typically take baths, yes.”

“What’s wrong with the sink?” A hand slices through the air like a blade as Eddie speaks, genuine perplexion in his voice. “She’s so fucking tiny, she doesn’t need the whole tub.”

Richie ignores him in favor of tending to their puppy. He sinks to his knees, sticks a hand under the running water, and places Leia down inside the tub. Unable to see Leia from where he leans against the doorframe, Eddie’s gaze falls on Richie. The man smiles, bright and joyous, as he watches the dog frolic around the tub. 

In reality, Eddie doesn’t care about bathing Leia in the tub. 

Not when it makes Richie smile like this.

Pleased laughter slips from Richie’s mouth when Eddie hears a loud splash, followed by the sight of water droplets flying in all directions. Then, a content sigh, low and drawn-out. Richie meets Eddie’s eyes as his grin shifts to an affectionate half-smile. “She doesn’t like the sink.”

Eddie quirks a brow. “How do you know?”

Another full smile grows, knowing yet playful, as Richie reaches an arm down to scoop the puppy up into an open palm. “Have you _met_ our daughter, Eds?”

An amused smirk.

“I’m afraid I have, yes.”

“Then you _know_ how fucking squirmy she gets when we have to hold her the whole time,” Richie says, still clinging to the puppy behind the barrier of the tub, “How are we supposed to wash her when she just sits there and does _this_?”

With another hoist up, Richie holds Leia directly up and stares Eddie dead in the eye. She’s soaked from the back down, dark fur matted to her body in jagged directions. 

Then, Leia squirms.

Wriggles like she thinks she’s running, swimming, or some peculiar mix of both. Like she’s absolutely desperate to break free from Richie’s grip if it’s the last thing he does. Muffled huffs and growls echo against the tile as Leia pushes onwards.

Cute.

Richie just sits there and lets it continue, staring Eddie down with a deadpan expression all the while. And even after what feels like over a _minute_ , Leia’s still going. Still squirming. Shifting back and forth like she genuinely believes she stands a chance against the strength of Richie’s hand.

Really fucking cute.

“See this, Eddie?” Richie presses, pointing a finger towards the flailing puppy in his hand. His eyebrows are raised as if daring Eddie to try and argue his point, though his struggle to maintain a serious demeanor is painfully obvious. “Do you _see_ this shit?”

A smile finally cracks on Eddie’s face. “Okay, fine, you win.”

“She’s still fucking going, Eds-”

Bouts of laughter follow next, growing in volume to match the pair’s widening grins of amusement. 

“I see that!”

“She’s _still fucking going_.”

Eddie strolls over with arms crossed over his chest, still laughing, before he flips the toilet lid down and sits atop it. “Is that normal?”

“I don’t know, but _fuck_ , she’s just like you.”

“What does _that_ mean?!”

“This is just what you were like as a kid, man!” Richie chuckles, eyes gleaming with a fond sense of nostalgia as he peers up towards Eddie, “So much fucking _energy_ , just all the time. Fast talker, fast runner. Everything about you, _fast_. You know, looking back, I think that’s why we became best friends so fucking quickly when we first met.”

“You think?” Eddie asks, leaning forward and teeming with curiosity. 

“You were the only one who could always keep up with my lil’ old undiagnosed ADHD brain,” Richie replies with a faltering expression. A soft chuckle follows that’s both appreciative and melancholic. 

A short silence comes next, neither heavy nor light as Richie douses the rest of Leia's fur with warm, gentle splashes of water.

“What about now?”

“Hm?”

“What am I like now?”

Richie exhales, pausing to contemplate. “Different.”

“Oh.”

“ _No_ , shit, not like that— sorry, I-” Richie quickly adds, shaking his head, “You helped me learn how to stop running away from shit, you know? When I did that, you just...didn’t have to always try to catch up with me, I guess. And it’s nice, it’s _really_ nice. I like how it feels.”

A jump of Eddie’s heart, a warm rush of love. “Me too.”

“It’s like-” Richie starts as he lathers both hands with shampoo and snatches the dancing puppy from the tub. He rubs along her fur, firm yet careful, half-smiling when Leia’s coated with puffy, white bubbles. “It’s like, I don’t know— it just feels like there was something sitting at the back of my mind, maybe, and now it’s just… _gone_. Feels like it’s finally safe to take a breather, I guess, so we can—”

“—So we can slow down.”

Richie blinks, surprised, before turning towards Eddie and nodding quietly.

“We can really take our time,” Eddie adds with a voice just above a whisper, “Don’t have to worry about what’s next, but more of the opposite. Like if we move too fast I might blink and just, I’d just—”

“—Miss it,” Richie utters, equally as quiet, “Before you had a chance to really enjoy it.”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes in awe, “Exactly that.”

Another lull, this one filled with splashes and sprays of water as Richie maneuvers Leia’s wriggling form beneath the faucet. He turns her slowly, wiping away the bubbles with a free hand and taking extra care not to get the shampoo in her eyes or mouth. 

“Is that why you-”

Richie doesn’t finish the question, most likely unsure of how to word it.

“Yeah,” Eddie answers, eyes glazed over and trained on Leia, “I mean of _course_ I was nervous about the whole being with a guy thing in general because it’s all still very fucking new to me-”

An earnest smile appears on Richie’s face. His eyes shimmer in the light behind his glasses as he dries and extends an open hand, rests it on Eddie’s thigh, and slowly rubs up and down.

“But I really just asked to take things slow with you because I was so afraid of _missing_ it all,” Eddie continues once he places his own hand atop Richie’s and offers a firm squeeze in return. “Trust me, sweetheart, I was as ready as you were to just jump into this head first. But then I couldn’t stop thinking about what we could’ve had before we forgot. I don’t _like_ thinking about it, but I _do_ , and I know you do, too.”

One solemn nod of understanding, a tightening grip on Eddie’s thigh. 

“We missed a lot,” Eddie whispers without bothering to mask the jump of octave in his voice, “I just didn’t want to miss another second with you.”

“I-” A bittersweet sigh. “I felt that too, Eds.”

“You did?”

“When we were joking about all the _dates_ we’d been on together,” Richie half-smiles, huffs a weak laugh. “We got to our date downtown and it just hit me. That was our _first_ real date, just as new as all the other firsts we’d had. But some of those things, Eds, we did it all the time before New Years. But that didn’t matter, cause now it— after getting together, I— I guess it just feels—”

“—Different.”

Richie opens his mouth, then closes it.

He nods avidly. 

“Those moments are so fucking important to me, Rich.” Eddie pauses to pull Richie’s hand towards his face, closing the distance as he plants a gentle kiss on every knuckle. “Every first we have now helps me forget the ones we couldn’t. Richie, I— I can’t let a _single_ one slip by.”

Eddie’s hand moves to caress Richie’s face; His love leans into the touch. Clings to its warmth for comfort. Then he shifts, turning his head to steal a kiss on Eddie’s palm, resting a hand over Eddie’s to press them even closer together.

“We still know how to be fast when we wanna be,” Richie hums through a growing smile, “Nothing gets past us, darling.”

 _And nothing ever will again_ , Eddie thinks. 

“Rich?”

Richie acknowledges he’s listening with another hum, eyes locked on Leia as she scurries excitedly around the edges of the tub. He scoops the puppy up, now bubble-free, and plants a theatrical kiss atop her head. 

Eddie grins. “I love you.”

“I-”

Leia jerks forward, throwing her weight towards her dad’s face. He fumbles the puppy in one hand and manages to catch himself with the other. Body shaking with hyper excitement, Leia attacks Richie with a series of quick kisses as she soaks the entire front of the man’s shirt with her sopping, undried fur.

Jubilant laughter follows. 

Healing. 

Richie beams, eyes meeting Eddie’s. “I love you, too.”

  


* * *

  


Eddie taps the screen of his phone, triple-checking the multiple alarms he’d set for tomorrow morning. Glances over at Richie’s small pile of suitcases and bags, eyes the set of travel clothes laid out atop the dresser, places Richie’s glasses case on top of his phone beside the bed. 

A short pause. 

“You’re forgetting something.” 

“Baby, I _promise_ I’m not.” Passing through the doorway, Richie slows to take in the sight of Eddie and Leia laying in his bed together, waiting for him. 

He smiles.

“Feels like you are,” Eddie grumbles, mostly to himself, as he scoots to make room for his love. 

Richie chuckles at the visible pout on Eddie’s face, and leans to peck him on the cheek. “I’m immune to that feeling.” 

“You are? How?” 

“That’s what ADHD is, babe,” Richie explains with a wink, “Just that exact feeling but all the fucking time.” 

“Oh. That sucks.”

“Yeah, that’s why I started ignoring it.” Richie stretches on his side of the bed, straightening his legs with a hiss. 

A frown flashes across Eddie’s face. “What is it?”

“Knees hurt.” 

“Well you did just kneel in front of the bathtub for twenty minutes.”

A beat. 

“Not the only thing I kneeled in front of today.”

Oh.

Eddie feels an immediate heat in his cheeks, suddenly grateful for the low light of the room as his thoughts drift back to this morning. Heated and aroused out of his mind, the feeling of his dick when he brushed the back of Richie’s throat. The most intense waves of pleasure he’d ever felt with another person. 

Richie’s eyes are fucking _on_ him, Eddie can feel it. Blush deepening, Eddie shifts beneath the covers and hides from the piercing gaze by burying his face in Richie’s chest. A bout of comical laughter follows. Shakes of Richie’s torso, comforting glides of a hand up and down Eddie’s back. 

It’s wonderfully pleasant. 

“Technically, _both_ of those things were your idea, so it’s not my fault.” 

“Two very _excellent_ ideas,” Richie corrects Eddie before pressing a kiss on his hair, “Both very worth it.” 

Eddie smiles against Richie’s shirt. “Yeah.” 

“Can’t believe you cried while you had your dick entirely down my throat.” 

A sharp jab of pointed fingers at Richie’s side. “Shut up.” 

“What?” Richie teases with a light chuckle, rubbing more smooth circles along Eddie’s lower back. “Oh come on, it’s a _little_ funny.”

“I was having, like, a moment, okay?” Eddie mumbles into Richie’s shirt, trying hard not to join in Richie’s soft laughter, “Jackass.” 

“A _moment_? While I was _sucking your dick_?”

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles, dropping the facade, when Richie playfully pokes his sides in reply. The sound fades to a content sigh. He shifts, now resting the side of his head atop Richie’s shoulder in order to meet the man’s stare. “A gay moment.”

Richie grins. 

“Ah,” He says with a playful understanding, free hand now petting Eddie’s hair, “Those are the best kind.” 

A hum of agreement, followed by a short silence.

Light and full of love. 

“Does it feel weird?” 

Eddie frowns. “Does what feel weird?” 

“I don’t know, just-“ Richie hesitates. His hand freezes on Eddie’s back, as if he’s using all of his energy to focus on the question trapped behind his lips. “When you talk about all the gay stuff. Like I knew that about myself since we were kids, but _you_ , you just figured this shit out like, what? A month ago? I can’t really picture what that must feel like.”

“Yeah,” Eddie huffs a breath, pulling away to stretch out on his side. Richie mirrors his position so that they’re face-to-face. Eyes locked, their hands dance between them, touches and glides as light as air. “It was weird at first.” 

“Heh, yeah, I don't doubt it.”

“But not a bad weird,” Eddie adds quickly, expression thoughtful, “You know that feeling you get when you remember something you’re excited for is coming up soon? And you get that little rush in your chest that makes you breath heavy?” 

“Mhm.”

“Felt like that every time I said it,” Eddie half-smiles as he recalls the elation of his own self-discovery, “Because I’d remember where I was a year ago versus now. And that even though it took a lot longer than most other people, I still got there in the end.”

Richie’s eyes glisten. “Feel good?”

“So fucking good.”

Another pause. Their voices are hushed when they speak again, a wave of quiet swallowing the room as Richie extends a hand to brush stray hairs from Eddie’s face. 

“...Hey Eds?” 

“Yeah?”

“I realized something,” Richie utters, his knees brushing along Eddie’s as he shifts beneath the covers. Inching closer, grasping hands, interlocking fingers. “There's something I don’t say enough, not nearly as much as you deserve or as often you say it to me—”

Taken aback by the serious gleam in Richie’s eyes, Eddie waits. 

“—But Eddie, my love, I’m so fucking _proud_ of you—”

Oh. 

“—You saw what I was like before,” Richie says as he pulls their intertwined hands towards his lips. He pecks along their knuckles and holds them still beneath his nose and mouth. “You were always so expressive with your support for me, and I just realized that since I can’t always articulate how I’m feeling very well, sometimes I forget to say anything at all.”

...Oh.

“Just cause I don’t always say it, Eds, that doesn’t mean I feel it any less. I need you to know—” Richie’s tone grows the slightest bit frantic, near desperate as he speaks, “—I _need_ you to know that I’ve watched you from the start too, and _fuck_ , Eddie, the change I’ve seen in you...do you even fucking _see it_?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“You’re restless for it.” 

Scooting closer, Eddie finds himself locked in a stare with Richie. They barely blink, hands squeezed tight like they’re afraid the other will vanish if they look away. Or perhaps, because they’re trying to internalize this moment forever. Every last blink, every last breath. Brushes of the skin and the warmth that builds between them simply from proximity. 

Expression soft, Eddie breaks their grasp in order to rest a hand along Richie’s face. “Restless for what?”

“For _life_ , Eds.”

“Oh,” Eddie breaths, surprised by the answer, “I am?” 

“You want it so bad, Eddie.” A hand on Eddie’s face to mirror his own, a crooked smile that floods Eddie with a warmth both startling and strong that he can’t help but softly chuckle at the words. Richie half-smiles as his thumb traces soothing patterns along Eddie’s flushed cheeks. “To try everything, learn what you love. To get to know yourself in ways you never could before. To build a family like the one we lost, care for them, watch them grow and succeed. To find a love like ours.”

Eddie’s eyes sting with tears yet to fall.

Richie sees it and smiles.

“There’s only one greater privilege than having the chance to watch you accomplish those things for yourself, to watch you thrive and feel so happy with yourself every fucking day,” Richie says, the glisten of the tear streaking down his face barely visible in the low light, “And it’s the chance to give you my love in every way I’ve ever wanted to.”

“Richie…” Eddie wipes away the tears as they begin to fall more readily.

“Every day I wake up and I think I’m fucking dreaming,” Richie admits, voice low and wavering slightly, “Cause what the _fuck_ did I ever do to have someone as extraordinary as _you_ love me back?”

“You make it easy,” Eddie whispers with a breath of a chuckle, pulling Richie close until their foreheads touch, “Loving you.”

Their lips brush.

A grin of inexplicable fondness. “Everything is easier with you.”

Eddie seals a kiss, deeper this time, but all the more slow. 

It’s different, this kind of kiss, than the ones he’s used to with Richie. That frantic, visceral need to move as quickly and sharply as he can is gone. In its stead, a kiss so gentle it barely feels like more than a faint touch of their lips. Gradual movements, stunted but lacking in restraint. Pliant, delicate, and shockingly intoxicating. 

They part, but only just enough to speak.

“Gonna miss you.”

“Don’t think about that yet,” Eddie replies before kissing Richie again, a heavy sigh slipping from his mouth once he does, “You’re still here now.”

“Okay.”

Eddie takes the short reply as a cue to flick off the dim bedside light. Returning to his spot beside Richie, he diverges from his path to extend a hand to prod at the far end of the bed. It doesn’t take long for Eddie to find and scoop up the sleeping form of Leia. 

The puppy growls from being disturbed, but doesn’t fully wake.

In the dark, Eddie settles their girl between himself and Richie, tucking her up against the pillows’ edges. They encircle her completely, the notion sparking waves of a fierce adoration for his own little family. With a content sigh, Leia drifts back into her deep slumber as two protective hands join beneath the puppy’s back. The sensation of warm, soft fur tickles Eddie’s hand and, under darkness of the night, he smiles to himself. 

Soft glides of Richie’s thumb along his skin. “Night, Spagheds.”

An affectionate squeeze of their hands. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”


End file.
